Draco Malfoy and His Quest to Sensibility
by cleury
Summary: A string of events lands Draco in a psychiatric ward where he finds company in Hermione Granger. Too bad she's about as sane as he is. Who'd jump off a building to prove a point?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

Draco Malfoy and His Quest to Sensibility  
by cleury

* * *

Chapter I

* * *

Draco Malfoy was not such a complex character, but most of his peers seldom realized, blinded by his aloof character and arrogance. Of complete pure-blood descent, his physique showed no ill effects of near incestuous breeding. His straight nose, a reminiscent of his mother's own, combined with his father's set of grey eyes and striking blonde hair, created quite an impression. Yet, for all his kempt appearance and his precision in his every word and action, his cruel smirk and habitual scowl encapsulated his personality.

The Malfoys worried little. Following the defeat of Voldemort, they remained an authoritative and prestigious family by changing sides at the appropriate time. Two and a half years since, society, on most counts, forgave or forgot their past crimes for associating with the Dark Lord. People were inclined to act magnanimously in front of old and substantial sums of money. The Malfoys stood at the top of the wealthiest and most coveted circles.

Despite all the fortune possessed by the scion of Malfoy, at the age of twenty-one, Draco felt he lived a shadow of his former self and _nothing_ short of death could possibly tear this thought from him.

"It ends here," Draco announced to himself as he traipsed through the dark. He headed towards King's Cross station. At almost midnight, only the homeless were there. A few eyed Draco up, staring hungrily at his expensive gold watch adorning his wrist, but ultimately, did not act on their greed. The slant and narrowing of Draco's eyes deterred them. The impeccable black cloak around his shoulders fluttered picturesquely, creating the illusion of absolute sovereignty. The homeless man averted his eyes, defeated in the wordless battle of wills. Draco continued his way down the stairs until he reached Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

Inherently paranoid, he made certain of his lone presence before closing his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he lined his heels with the edge of the platform and gently rocked himself back and forth like a pendulum. The lulling effect soothed and readied him for what he planned to do… to jump off the platform and, by extension, end his life.

True to his character, Draco's pride dictated his actions. He would not permit his deed to look an accident. On his way to the station he thought about this obsessively:

_"TRAGIC ACCIDENT: Draco Malfoy Trips and Dies."_

Just imagining the headlines on the Daily Prophet, monopolized by the ramblings of Rita Skeeter, churned his insides. He wanted to be clear; he didn't trip, but jumped, of his own accord. Though Draco never cared about how other people _felt_, he cared about what other people _thought_.

"Draco, my dear! Why are you doing this?"

Draco jumped backwards, astounded by the voice behind him. He spun around, saw his mother in tears—Merlin forbid. Her make-up ran down in streaks, and his father was by her side with a grimace on his face, as though he smelt something bad.

"Because—" Draco started. How could his mother possibly understand? Indeed, if he left the world at this moment, most people would fail to comprehend.

But it was simple.

He didn't feel like he was living. He spent a lifetime under extreme pressure from his father, as well as the threat of Voldemort. Pain and anxiety had robbed and filled his childhood and adolescence. He had simply exhausted his emotions, and had run out of feelings. Or it might be that he hadn't had any form of life-endangering challenge to trigger emotional arousal since then. Regardless of reason, Draco felt like an empty husk and had lost his emotions one by one.

After the war, entertaining curious guests, who wondered how the son of a Death Eater was living, annoyed Draco. So he interacted with a very select few, avoiding all other social gatherings unless the hosts specifically asked for him to attend. Slowly, silence began to sink in and enfolded him. It rolled over him, stripped him of thoughts, and shrouded his memories. It wasn't that he didn't _feel_ anymore. He could still register his emotions, but he felt as though dissociated from them, as though they didn't belong to him. The void indulged in Draco's identity, and without definition of who he was, madness grew in Draco's unsettled mind—steering him to the conclusion to end it all, as a life without identity seemed not to be a life worthy of pursuit.

"Kill yourself?" the visage of Draco's father lifted one of his eyebrows and he sneered. "Pray tell son, why are you _trying _to commit suicide? This seems to be another thing you _failed _at."

"I don't care what you say, I don't care what you think about me anymore," replied Draco. Funny, he had spent most of his childhood fantasising about winning his father's recognition and Draco spent his teenage years wishing he was strong enough to overcome his father's disappointment. Now ice froze his heart and it grew impervious to all forms of attack. Nowadays, Draco wondered why he even cared in the first place.

"I'm not going to _fail_." Draco put a special emphasis on the last word. His father shook his head at him. "Watch me." He lifted his heels off the ground and lfell forward. Feeling as though he landed on a soft mat, he hung suspended in the air for a moment.

Then the protection wards pushed him back, and he fell onto his backside with an undignified thud.

"You never think," his father said from behind him.

The train flashed past Draco, who sat still on the ground. As Draco prepared to stand up, he heard a whistle and saw a black blur out of the corner of his eye. A guard tackled him. Everything hurt and went black.

Ouch.

Draco remembered something his father said to him once.

"If you ever find yourself in an unfortunate situation where you have trouble recollecting what occurred before you were indisposed, it is worth the effort to make sense of the surroundings and note the presence of others... figure out their intention before you let them know of your regained consciousness."

Draco followed his father's advice. As instructed, his eyes remained closed and he listened for clues of his whereabouts. The ticking of a clock meant his captor had situated him in a building of some sort, frequented, if not a dwelling. He heard a soft hum, and tensed. A person. Female and young, he concluded, for she hummed to the melody of a contemporary tune.

Draco opened his eyes slowly and found a woman seated behind a desk. He frowned as he tried to recall her name. She had been a student in Hogwarts and he recalled making fun of her before. _What was her name?_ She looked at him with a curious expression, her eyes doe-like and tapped her name plaque.

"Luna Lovegood," he read aloud.

The blonde girl nodded, smiling at him. "Very good. Do you know why you were brought here?"

"I was tackled and lost consciousness." He glared at Luna, trying to intimidate her. It seemed to have no consequence as it only served to make her smile wider. Luna Lovegood, unlike the homeless at the station, proved not to be the type to play wordless games. Her head resided in a far-off land, away from societal norms, making it impossible for her to understand the silent rituals of intimidation. Luna laid a hand on her plaque again.

"Therapist," Draco read aloud. _They brought me to an institution?_

Luna repeated her question, before adding that his mother had sent him there. Draco made no reply.

"Care for a sherbet lemon?" She reached forward to finger a glass bowl. Draco shook his head, feeling sick to his stomach. Luna popped a piece of candy into her mouth. "You will be in here for a little while, just to make sure this kind of thing won't happen again."

Draco shot out of his seat. "I won't, I don't need your help. Show me the exit."

"I'm afraid before you leave this room, you'll have to leave your wand with me. And that pin you have on your tie," she said, ignoring him. "We don't want you hurting anyone or yourself while you're here."

"No," said Draco, trying for the door.

"It's locked."

"Let. Me. Out."

"Not until you give your wand and tie pin. And your belt and tie, please. Don't want to take any chances."

Draco thought quickly. If he pretended to oblige and do as she asked, he could find his way out. Most wizards and witches required a wand to Apparate. Draco however, mastered the skill of wandless Apparition—a talent bestowed to him by the Dark Lord. He supposed Lovegood had no idea of his abilities as he never showed his skill to any of his peers.

"Fine!" Draco threw up his hands, the picture of resignation and undid his tie. Luna stared unabashedly as he removed his belt. Draco threw his removed garments on the floor. He wrinkled his nose, he couldn't remember the last time he acted so much like a prat, but Draco felt no courtesy to the unreasonable and exhaustive woman. "If you want them, pick them up yourself."

Luna held a neutral expression and stood from her seat. "Is there anyone you want to leave a message to? Your mother, perhaps?"

Draco snorted. "Not my mother, she's meddled enough." On second thought, he did have someone in mind. Draco tore a piece of parchment and scratched his message with the quill.

_AP,_

_Stuff came up; I'm going to be away for a bit. Take care of the company._

_DM_

Luna put a hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco folded the paper in four hastily, fearing that someone would look at his message. He handed the piece of parchment it to Luna, "Make sure it gets to him."

"Sure," she replied, her voice betraying no hint of surprise or contempt. "Oh, and be assured all items of your belonging can be collected when you are fit to leave. Come, follow me. I'll show you around."

Draco suppressed a shudder and tugged the sleeve of her shirt, pulling her hand from his shoulder. Luna Lovegood, with her strange personality, lack of common sense and deviant from respected customs, sat near at the top of the list of females he despised. He gritted his teeth and persevered. In a matter of moments, he would be away and rid of that horrid woman.

"Destination, Determination and Deliberation," Draco repeated in his head, picturing his bedroom. Luna opened the door and ushered Draco outside.

"I forgot to mention. There are wards in the wards. You can't Apparate in or out of here." She giggled into her hands. "So I insist, Malfoy. Stay, and you can come out when we deem you fit. Your mother told me you might _try_ and Apparate out of here. But please don't _try_, you might splinch yourself if you attempt to do so."

Draco swore inwardly. What a fool. _Of course the hospital would set up anti-apparition wards!_ Draco looked around and saw a swarm of orderlies passing before him. It seemed impossible to escape.

As Luna showed him around the complex, the pair weaved through a myriad of corridors and came to a stop in front of a wooden door. "This is your room. You're quite lucky to get a private one. Sometimes when there are a lot of people, you'd be forced to share." She pointed across the corridor and said, "That's the common room, there are a lot of books there, so you don't have to worry about being bored! If you don't like reading, you can watch TV in the dining hall. Otherwise, you can stay in your room all day. But I'd imagine it to be very boring sitting in bed and doing nothing. You can decide."She shrugged and gave a nod. "I'll let you get settled in then."

Without waiting for a reply, Luna left Draco alone. He didn't bother responding and opened the door to his room. Draco scoffed at the sight before him. The entire area of the room measured not even to the size of his toilet back in the Manor.

"How do you expect me to live in this matchbox?" Draco uttered, clutching the doorknob. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of disinfectant in the air and his eyes zeroed in onto the bed-sheets. The thin cotton sheets looked _used_. Draco leaned against the door for support, faint from the frightening sight before him. He quietly shut the door and slumped to the floor, taking deep breaths to calm down. Never, not even in Hogwarts had he been subjected to such _poverty_. He could not bear to stay in such a small room. That decided, he headed towards the common room. Draco held no expectation for the common room except for the faint hope it would be larger and less constricting than his 'bedroom'.

He charged straight to his destination, fearing nothing—for what could be worse than a small room? Almost concurrently, the answer came to him. Through the window he saw what he might describe as his worst nightmare. Draco never likened himself to a dramatic person though recent events did prove him otherwise. He took a few steps back as his face contorted into a displeased frown.

What horrendous spectacle lay before him?

One, bushy-haired Granger.

* * *

Author Note:

Pretty long author note, but some things are important, so I recommend skimming it at the very least.

I've finished writing the story and will only need to make minor edits to grammar. As a result, I _can_ update daily. However, I do want the story to have a decent amount of exposure because I put a lot of thought and effort into it. This is the first story I've written that I didn't intend for people to laugh heaps, and I think the things I'm dealing with is serious-ish. Please leave a review. They make me happy; running-around-the-house-even-though-I'm-unfit kind of happy. If there are more reviews, I'll be more inclined to update faster but I'm_ not_ going to hold the story hostage until it gets up to a specific review count or whatever.

This story is meant to make you think a bit. I love analysing English so I tried to use literary references and devices in my own work. I drop heaps of subtle hints and obvious clues to things that might occur in the future. I look forward to see if anyone picks them up. The characters, as seen from the first chapter, do not stray too far from their canon personalities. As the story progresses, you may see change but it will be due to certain external events. Also, what I depict in the story is _fictional_ and doesn't necessarily reflect what people and values are like in real life.

Lastly, this story is written for my two friends. They know who they are. I hope they can enjoy the story and continue reading without me forcing them. This applies to other readers too. Hur.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy and His Quest to Sensibility  
by cleury

* * *

Chapter II

* * *

Draco groaned and leaned against the door. His face felt stiff with disbelief and the corners of his mouth drooped towards the floor. Draco prepared to walk away when he stopped. He glanced at the window and stared.

Hermione Granger stood top on his list of unpleasant women. Her obnoxious personality and desperation to be right about everything placed her above Luna Lovegood. He saw little of her since the battle of Hogwarts, save a few glimpses at functions. Post-revolution, the diplomatic Malfoy family reformed their ways and reconsidered their stance on blood purism. Everyone was to be free from prejudice and be judged based on their merits alone. The Malfoys did exactly that. They treated everyone equally, though some more equal than others.

"If I knew this would mean having a Hogwarts reunion, I'd have taken Lovegood's offer and choked myself on a sherbet lemon ." Draco sighed. _No, it can't look like an accident_. A headline floated into his mind :

"DRACO MALFOY: Chokes to Death on a Sherbet Lemon."

His pride would never allow that, and conflict brewed inside of him. He didn't fancy interacting with Granger, but returning to his room meant admitting defeat. It proved that the girl he hated influenced his actions. That was impossible for him to admit.

Draco wrapped his fingers around the door handle and felt his heart beat in odd, raucous jolts. The undesirables of life, for the first time since the Dark Lord's demise, made contact with him. Accustomed to being pampered and catered to his every whim, Draco felt dissension with the universe.

The door closed with a light click behind Draco as he entered the common room. He did his best to block his peripheral vision, but out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Hermione look up at him. Had Draco been less observant, he'd have missed the widening of her eyes before she recovered. So much so, she appeared to be unaffected by his sudden appearance, save for the intrusion into the room.

Draco surveyed the room before him. It was by no means extravagant. Nor did it pass his standards, but at least he didn't feel like someone stuffed him into a matchbox. Noting the bars on the windows, he likened the room to a cage. Draco shot a glance at Hermione. _A cage inside either a circus or a zoo._

Hermione appeared absorbed in the book, _The Wizard of Oz,_ in her hands. Draco frowned, bewildered by her lack of reaction. Draco chose a book, before he moved towards the table where Hermione sat. The movement distracted Hermione. She looked up just as Draco took a seat diagonal to her. He intentionally picked the seat having the greatest distance between their persons. His back straight as an arrow, Draco began to read.

Several minutes passed and Draco felt the tingling sensation of Hermione's eyes on him. The feeling did not leave fora long time. Draco shifted in his seat, feeling uneasy from Hermione's scrutiny. He gripped the book tightly and flipped the pages with more fervour, creating loud rustling sounds.

As a formidable man, both in aura, stature and reputation, Draco was used to people staring. Yet, Hermione running her eyes up and down him made Draco feel uncomfortable. Then he began to feel annoyed. _I refuse to play whatever game she's at_. That in mind, he ignored Hermione. He fixed his gaze on the words in front of him, and refused to look elsewhere. The sensation of discomfort passed when Draco saw Hermione's eyes flicker away, and he glanced at her. Hermione had resumed reading her book.

Silence hung between the two like a thick shroud, and soon the tension between them was unbearable. When Draco discovered he'd been reading the same line three times, he glared at Hermione. It seemed she had satisfied her piqued curiosity. She read on, giving her book undivided attention.

_Now._ Draco took this as an opportunity to scrutinize Hermione. Her face had never been the source of admiration by males and it seemed unlikely it ever would be. But Draco begrudgingly admitted the height of her cheekbones and the narrowing of her chin proved to be captivating. Thick but well-maintained brows slanted downwards as she read with intense concentration. Her sweeping eyelashes flicked up slightly at the ends. Draco scowled at the attention to detail he paid Hermione. At that moment, she chose to look up and caught Draco staring at her. Had Draco been an owner of lesser pride, he would have looked away. But his pride kept his eyes from averting because he didn't want to be seen as weak.

A silent competition began between them. Both refused to be the first to look away. Not a single word passed through their lips. Time stopped as they both pitted themselves against each other.

"Granger."

"Malfoy."

Saying his name broke the curse and they looked away at the same time. Refusing to acknowledge each other further, they turned their attentions turned to their books. Or at least, they hoped it would. They pretended to be focussed on their books . When they were certain the other wasn't looking, they sneaked glances at each other.

Finally, curiosity won over pretence and Draco snapped his book shut. The sound caused Hermione to jump in her seat. "Shouldn't you be off with The-Boy-Who-Refused-To-Die and Weasel-Bee?" he sneered.

"No," said Hermione, her posture defensive.

"Oh, did they _finally_ open their eyes and scream when they saw you? What are you doing here?"

"Taking a break," said Hermione.

Draco could see from the tightening of her jaw that she tried to ignore the venom in his voice. Draco smirked. The days since Hogwarts seemed to have mellowed her, she was a push-over.

"What about you?"

Draco glared at Hermione. "None of your business."

Hermione sighed and shrugged her shoulders, as though she grew bored of the conversation.

Draco sneered at Hermione. "Aren't _you_ a flower of courtesy!" he spat. "I suggest you pay me more respect or I'll tell your supervisors how poorly you treat patients."

Hermione snorted and shook her head. "I choose who I respect. Plus, I don't work here—"

"Whoa! I'm not interested in your life story."

"You're the one who talked to me first." Hermione grimaced . Talking to Draco was like drinking medicine: difficult to take in, and difficult to keep down. Not to mention the bad taste in her mouth afterwards.

Hermione's sour face made Draco grind his molars. Her expression reminded him too much of his father. Sensing Draco's annoyance, Hermione gave a cheesy grin.

"Would you stop staring at me? I feel dirty now. I think I need a bath," Draco sneered. "Do you fancy me or something?"

"I'm about as hot as liquid nitrogen," said Hermione, scowling.

"Liquid what?" he repeated. Sheheaved her shoulder past her ears in a shrug. Draco's nostrils flared. He did not like being ignorant. _I can't think of the last time someone made me so mad_. "Stupid twat," he mumbled under his breath.

Hermione turned red and she slapped her palms on the table. "Listen. I refuse to put up with your insults in silence. I'm warning you. Stop it."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Or what?" he snorted. "Get real! You'll have better luck taming that hairstyle of yours."

"So you refuse to stop."

"Oh," Draco cooed. "I'm _so_ scared. What are you going to do?"

Hermione glowered as Draco smirked. The perfect princess couldn't make him do anything. He was invincible.

"Nothing," she said, though the expression on her face suggested the contrary.

"A six-year old can tell you're lying. What happened to being noble? I thought you had class."

"Why bother with _class_ when you're dealing with _crass_?" said Hermione, batting her eyelashes at Draco.

Draco scoured his brain for an appropriate retort. "Shut it, Granger." _What kind of response is that?_ Draco decided to spend some time later to think of retorts, so he'd have a few in handy for any situation.

"Trying to plot my death?" Hermione smiled condescendingly at him when Draco glared at her. "Going to drown me in hair gel?"

"I refuse to hear insults about my hair products from someone with a bird's nest for a hairstyle." Draco shot back._ Much better._

Hermione's hand flew up to her hair. Draco smirked, seeing Hermione's smiled wiped from her face. But the moment sped past. Recovering, Hermione clutched her chest. "That one almost hurt. I'm just saying, death by hair gel doesn't sound too frightening."

Draco snorted then chuckled. "No, but it would be a humiliating death."

"Agreed," said Hermione, cracking a smile.

Draco parted his lips , surprised. Hermione's eyes widened. They gawked at each other. The notion of finding each other's retort humorous horrified them.

"Granger, you're so _putrid_. It'd be better if you stopped breathing," said Draco, stepping his insults up another notch, terrified at the idea of seeing eye to eye with her. "Go away, you don't deserve to breathe the same air as I do!" he made shooing motions with his hands.

Hermione rolled her eyes. They hadn't seen each other for more than a year, but nothing had changed. Draco thought Hermione was a _smart_-ass. Hermione thought Draco was _just _an ass.

"This isn't Hogwarts anymore," whispered Hermione.

Draco barked a harsh laugh. "So what?"His eyes opened wide in a crude caricature of sympathy. "Oh, no. You don't have Professor McGonagall to run and cry to!"

"It means that, you vile chauvinistic pig," snarled Hermione as she stood up and stomped over to Draco, wrenching the book out of his hands and waving it menacingly in front of his face, "there are no house points to be docked if I decide to smash your face with this book!" She slammed the volume onto the table, and it made an ear-splitting crash.

Draco flinched and shied away. In his younger years, he would have whimpered in this situation. He feared for his safety. For one insane moment, Hermione reminded him of Bellatrix in her fits of rage. Hermione's face flushed pink, and her hair flew in all different directions. _Just like Aunt Bella when she ran rampant. _But that wasn't the end of the likeliness. The craziness in her eyes scared him most; the same fire lit his aunt's eyes.

Draco sneaked a glance at Hermione. She looked like she'd forgotten about the book and was about to throttle him with her bare hands. Actually, that was the more likely option. Hermione adored reading and there was no way she would hurt him with one of her precious books.

Draco tried to collect himself and calm his quickened heartbeat. "If you want to play rough, all you had to do was ask."

"Ew," Hermione made a face at him, "who would want to do anything with _you?_"

"No, that's not the question to be asking _me. _I mean, just look at me."

"Not without puking."

"I said at me, not the mirror."

"You know, if I had a pie the size of your ego, I could probably solve the world's food crises."

"Draco Malfoy saves the world." Draco smirked. "Sounds good to me."

"You're insufferable!" Hermione said, her face twisting into an unreadable expression. Shethrew her hands in the air and began packing her things.

Draco laughed. "Yes, run along like a good girl! And no, I'm not insufferable. I'm just…" he paused, trying to think of a good adjective for himself.

"Malfoy," Hermione said in a strange, controlled voice as she approached the door.

"Yes, love?" said Draco, his voice laced with honey and poison.

"Go to hell."

Draco laughed cruelly as Hermione slammed the door behind her. He won and had driven her away. Leaning back in his chair, Draco smiled.

* * *

Hermione did not appear in the common room after that. Draco was alone and he basked in the silence. Half an hour before dinner, the door swung open. He glared at the person standing in the doorway. He hoped to scare them away with his expression of disgust.

"There you are. I looked for you in the food hall, but I guess you're a television fan?" said Luna.

Draco sighed and snapped his book shut. "What do you want, Lovegood?"

"Now that you've settled in, we need to have another session," Luna sat on a chair opposite him. She took out her notepad and quill while smiling eerily at Draco.

"I don't want to talk," Draco said stonily.

"Listen and comment when you want," Luna suggested. The quill beside her started to make awful scratching noises.

Draco grunted and closed his eyes. _Please, please disappear._

"Earlier this morning, you were at King's Station where you attempted to throw yourself off a train platform. Can you confirm or deny this?"

Draco glared at Luna but made no reply.

"The wards pushed you back onto the platform. The station security members brought you here under your mother's instruction. Your mother wants you to stay until you feel better," Luna continued, looking up at Draco. He scowled at her but she did not seem put off by his expressions. "How do you feel about that?"

"Nothing, Lovegood," said Draco. "I don't feel anything about anything."

"I see," said Luna shortly. Then she leaned in closer and whispered. "You've met Hermione?"

Draco sneered at the sound of the girl's name. "What? Did she tattle-tale on me?" Draco laughed and his shoulders shook. "Should've known. Old habits die hard."

Luna perked up. This marked the first time Draco spoke up since the interview started. "What do you think of Hermione?"

"A know-it-all and self-righteous stuck-up," said Draco with the same fluidity of ordering his daily coffee. "I wonder why she has friends."

Luna nodded, not because she agreed with the description gave Hermione, but to encourage him to continue speaking. "So you don't hate her because she's muggle-born?"

Draco's head snapped up and he held his silence for a moment.

"When I asked you why you hated Hermione, you didn't even mention her heritage," Luna said, peering at Draco as though he was a curious zoo specimen. "I thought that would be the first thing you'd say."

Draco hesitated and collected his thoughts. He still disliked muggles, but hadn't been vocal about his hate as it was no longer politically correct to do so. Plus, he rarely associated with them. Since they were out of sight, they were out of mind. _Until now._

"Have your thoughts on bloodlines changed since the war?" asked Luna.

"My hatred for Granger has little to do with how I feel about blood." said Draco, looking straight at Luna but evading the question. "If anything, the war cemented what I thought of her. An obnoxious know-it-all."

"Hm."

Draco scowled at Luna's reply. It wasn't fair. If he didn't answer, the woman would probably take it as an affirmative statement and he would be locked up and away for not being nice. "I haven't given any thought to muggles for quite some time." He often weighed his words before speaking. Even more so withthis touchy his father was sentenced to life-long imprisonment in Azkaban for his war crimes, Draco watched what he said to strangers.

"All right," said Luna, writing a few comments onto her notepad.

The way Luna treated him like a lab-rat annoyed Draco. She documented and analysed his every move and action, and it drove him insane. "Why do you keep asking me about Granger?"

"It was the first thing you responded to when I was speaking. And… sometimes old habits die hard."

"What?" seethed Draco. _Is she quoting me to annoy me?_

"What you said earlier, it's true. Do you hate Hermione?"

"Believe me, the way I feel about Granger has not changed a bit since Hogwarts." Draco snorted. "Don't talk about her anymore. She leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

"One final question," pressed Luna. She could see the last threads of Draco's patience fraying.

"Fine, but you'll leave me alone for the whole day."

Luna nodded, omitting the fact it would be his last session until tomorrow anyway. "Deal."

"Go on, then."

"Do you feel happy?"

Draco laughed harshly. "Let me enlighten you. I have money and a large manor at Wiltshire. I am head of the Malfoy house. No one can tell me what to do, and contrary to popular belief, I have people I get along with. If that's what you _define_ as _happy_ then I'm fucking ecstatic. But didn't I tell you before? I don't feel anything." Draco opened the book in front of him. "Don't bother me with your stupid questions anymore."

* * *

Author Note:

I tried to set the scene for the story with the chapter, hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Special thanks for Allons-y Lovelies for beta-ing my chapters!


	3. Chapter 3

Draco Malfoy and His Quest to Sensibility  
by cleury

* * *

Chapter III

* * *

Dinner time. Draco lined up with his fellow patients, holding a steel tray. He looked in front of him, entirely alien to the idea of _going_ to get his food. He was used to the food coming to him. He copied the person beside him and watched as the canteen lady drop some sort of sludge onto his plate. Flecks of food hit Draco's finger tips and he instinctively retracted his hand, causing his plate to resound loudly onto the counter-top.

"Watch it!" an unidentified male said behind him.

Draco took a napkin and wiped his fingertips. He cocked his head sideways, staring at the cutlery before him. "What's that?" he asked an orderly clad in blue. The man looked at him as though he was simple and made no reply. Instead, he picked up the white utensil and handed it to Draco. Scowling, Draco scanned the cafeteria before him.

Though none of the tables were unoccupied, the number of people on each table varied greatly. While people were squished like sardines in one, a few sat alone. This suited Draco immensely; he eyed a table near a window and moved towards it.

One quiet man sat there stonily, munching on his meal. He looked like a man of few words who would not bother to initiate conversation with him. _Perfect. _As Draco made his way across the table, he felt all eyes on him and frowned, his eyebrows slanting in a sharp gradient.

_Oh, I know I'm young and beautiful, but you're making me blush,_ Draco thought as he continued to the table.

"Malfoy."

Hermione stood in front of Draco waving her hand. Draco frowned and ignored her.

"Go away, Granger. You're mistaken, I talked to you for a bit but it doesn't mean we're friends."

Hermione snorted and tugged Draco's shirt, hindering his movements. "Sit over here!" she hissed. Before Draco could react, she grabbed his tray and set it down on a table close to them.

Draco seethed and tugged his tray away from Hermione. She pulled Draco down and he fell into the seat beside her. "What are you doing?" Draco's voice raised a few decibels higher.

Hermione pointed to the man sitting by himself. "Saving your face from getting kicked. He's in a bad mood today. He tried to bite someone's arm because they provoked him. Merlin knows what he would do if you showed up in front of him. He'll probably kick your butt. Not that I don't want to see that happening. But I don't want him to be punished for your horrible behaviour."

Draco gulped in shock and eyed the seemingly placid man. After recovering from his surprise he glared at Hermione. "Don't think I missed your thinly veiled insult, my head isn't up my ass."

Hermione only smirked in reply. He looked down his tray and gripped the utensil in his hand. It didn't appear to be a weapon of mass destruction, but it would have to keep him safe until he got his wand back. "I could always use her as a shield," Draco wondered out loud. He waved the cutlery in front of Hermione's face. "What's this?"

"You don't know what it is?" Hermione repeated, her voice filled with disbelief. Draco felt immensely annoyed as yet another person looked as though he had asked something foolish. Draco hissed and slapped the table.

"Granger. If I did, do you think I'd be asking you?" said Draco, he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down.

"It's a spork."

"A what—"

Hermione looked at Draco, with a look of mock disappointment across her features. "A spoon and a fork. You're not very bright, are you?"

Still annoyed at Hermione's snarky attitude, Draco sniffed and turned his back to her. "Okay, you've warned me about that man. Now go away. Don't want to be put off my food any more than I already am."

Hermione laughed and Draco turned his head towards her, surprised. "What? And I'm not going anywhere, I sat here first."

Draco sighed and looked around him, all the other tables seemed too full and he no longer trusted the tables occupied by one person, who knew what they could do to him."Don't you have any work to do? Why are you sitting here, eating dinner?"

Hermione shook her head and exhaled loudly. "I told you, I'm on a break right now."

Draco changed positions so he faced Hermione again. "And you're in this hospital because…"

Hermione gave Draco a condescending smile. "Some of us have a heart so we want to help people. I'm a volunteer here."

Draco waved his spork in the air. "I have a heart. I donate regularly to charity. And fat lot of help you're doing. Mocking and insulting poor patients like me."

"_Poor?_ Draco Malfoy, I can't believe you described yourself as poor!" Hermione giggled, her shoulders shaking from the effort.

Draco felt a sense of satisfaction wash through him, though annoyance quickly replaced this emotion. "Are you certain you don't like me? You seem to be spending so much time with someone you hate," he waved his hand. "You're doing that laughing thing too. Talk about giving mixed signals!"

Hermione laughed again despite herself. "Oh, rest assured, I don't like you at all. And about the laughing thing," she paused for dramatic effect. "It's not so much I'm laughing _with_ you as I am laughing _at _you." her grin widened when she saw the scowl develop on Draco's face. He had walked right into that one. "This is my ground and you're not always going to get your way. I'll do as I please, so don't even think about bossing me around."

Draco snorted. "No, that's because it's _your_ job."

Hermione faced Draco with a grin on her face. "My job is being a good volunteer and making sure you finish your food. Everyone knows how _delicious_ the cuisine is here."

Draco shook his head stubbornly. "I hate carrots," he said as he made swirling motions in his food.

"You still have to eat them."

"Who are you, my _mother_?" spat Draco. He shook his head, his mother never forced him to do anything he didn't want.

Hermione hummed, looking as though she enjoyed his suffering greatly. "Come on, eat up."

If Draco had felt the inclination to finish his meal before, the idea was swept away by Hermione's patronization. He glared at the offending meal and then at the girl. "When hell freezes over."

Hermione smirked. "Well then, grab your winter coat. You can't leave until you finish your meal."

"You can't make me," he said, crossing his arms. Hermione laughed again at his predicament and patted his shoulder consolingly.

"Be a good boy and eat up."

Draco snorted. The corners of his lips flexed upwards and there was a malignant twinkle in his eyes. "I'd like to keep my body slim, thank you very much," Draco smoothed his shirt to accentuate the flatness of his stomach. "Unlike you."

"What did you say?" asked Hermione in a light, tilting voice.

"I said I'm slim." said Draco, enunciating each syllable with deliberation. "What's your patronus? Rolls of fat?"

The corner of Hermione's lips widened into a smile before it shifted into a look of offence. A noticeable tic developed under Hermione's eye. "Whoops!" she cried out, before pushing the tray of food onto Draco's lap. He could hardly register the shock of her actions before she promptly burst into tears and ran out of the hall.

Draco's eyes, round as saucers could only stare at her retreating figure, he felt conflicting emotions. On one hand he was about to chase Hermione and tackle her down for ruining his expensive stretched-cotton riding pants, and on the other he felt gratitude for her. For tonight at least, he wouldn't be obliged to finish his awful meal.

As everyone stared at Hermione as she fled to room, Draco took this moment to slip his spork down the sleeve of his shirt. He pushed his plate away from his person and hurried out of the cafeteria. An orderly stared him down but Draco gave him a look and pointed down to his ruined pants. Without any further confrontation, Draco reached his room. He pulled out a spare change of pants from a canvas bag sitting on top of his bed. It contained a few basic toiletries and spare clothes. He quickly changed out of his dirty pair of pants into a fresh pair of slacks. When he finished changing, he rolled on his bed and faced the ceiling. He began counting the number of dots each tile had.

"Sixty-three… oh, bloody hell! I give up." Draco bounced to an upright position and got off his bed, heading for the door. He was about to turn right, to the direction of the common room, when he paused.

"No, I don't want to see Granger," said Draco, he shook his head to himself, knowing his luck, she'd be in the common room, sulking with a book as company. "She did spill soup on my pants," though Hermione ranked nowhere near as dangerous as his aunt, he knew it'd be best to avoid women when they turned violent. So, ever the courteous man, Draco turned his heel and wandered into unknown territory, in the opposite direction. A few strides away from the girl's bathroom stood a door in the wall.

Nothing seemed suspicious about it. It was made out of wood; just what one expected from a door, except a strange lock replaced an old-fashioned or magically enchanted lock. Adrenaline rushed through Draco's body, his heart thumped loudly.

"If I can figure out the code, I can get out of here." Draco whispered to himself, his eyes darting right and left, making sure no one could see what he planned to do next. He studied the lock, and his eyes flew open, unable to believe his luck.

"That's what you get for not relying on magic," Draco taunted the hospital staff snidely. The lock had been left open. Draco took a look around him one last time. No one. He stepped through the door and shut it close quietly behind him. The entrance of the door was connected to a steep flight of wooden stairs. Draco could feel the cool air rush down and brush against his countenance.

"The rooftop!" Draco quickened his pace, feeling a sense of urgency. Any moment now, the staff might discover he was nowhere to be found… Draco made quiet but speedy progress up the stairs, finally reaching the top. He saw the night sky above him. He felt the chill of the night snake its way through his clothes. As an attempt to preserve warmth, Draco wrapped his arms around himself.

"Ngh…"

Draco tensed and whipped his head around, having heard a sniffle. Lo and behold, his eyes fell on Hermione Granger crouched in the corner.

"Granger."

Hermione refused to look in Draco's direction. He took a few steps closer, and saw a mangled orange brush underneath her. Draco raised an eyebrow and it took him quite some time to realize it was a cat and not a brush. He groaned.

Hermione shot a glare at Draco. She had come up onto the rooftop for the sole purpose of avoiding him. Fate seemed to have it in for her. It appeared Draco had the same train of thought. "Of all places to meet you!" said Draco. "I avoided to the common room so I could get away from_ you_."

"You're not supposed to be up here," replied Hermione in a snotty tone. Draco grimaced at how nasal she sounded. He didn't even dare to look at her face, fearing a plethora of snot and tears. He turned his head and was about to head back down when his pride deterred him.

_I'll just chase her away with insults like this afternoon,_ Draco thought.

He cleared his throat and turned back to face Hermione. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"Sod off, Malfoy. I'm in no mood for you right now." snapped Hermione before proceeding to take an enormous sniff. She clutched the side of her face and glared at Draco.

Draco raised both his eyebrows, having realized she was still crying and it wasn't that she was having a bad allergic reaction to her cat or was sensitive to the night air. Draco smirked. He just wanted to insult her enough so she would run away from the rooftop. Draco reviewed the plain his head, as he did every time he created a scheme. One: offend Granger. Two: suggest it would be best for Granger to leave. Three: Watch Granger surrender the rooftop. Four: Bask in the glory of his triumph. The strategy established, Draco opened his mouth.

"What is _your_ problem?" he started, walking over to Hermione. "Oh, I see how it is! You're just looking for attention," Hermione made no reply and continued to hug her cat as it tried to crawl away. Draco sighed loudly and clapped his hands together. "Well congratulations, you just got some."

Hermione gave Draco no reaction and held onto her cat as though it was her lifeline.

"Snap out of it, will you?" said Draco, growing tired of Hermione's distress.

Hermione finally turned to glare at Draco. "Just leave me alone. And it's your fault. I'm like this because you kept treating me like a bag of fertilizer!"

"Oh come off it. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy snapping insults back at me too," He grinned triumphantly when she could not rebuke the fact. Hermione stood up and the cat scrambled out of its mistress' arms, grooming itself in the corner. Draco glared at the cat, hoping it would leave. Then perhaps Hermione would follow suit.

"You just want to feel this way, don't you? Poor little old me," Draco whined in falsetto.

"You're heartless," said Hermione, one sleeve wiping her eyes and the other sat still on her cheek.

"That's right, I don't have a heart," spat Draco gruffly. "I'm different to people like you, nothing matters to me! But you? Oh, a lost cause? I've got to help them to convince everyone how _amazing_ I am!"

Hermione shot Draco a death glare and Draco lit up with glee, his plan to annoy Hermione was working meticulously. Draco sighed once again, heaving his shoulders up and down. "You need to get laid," he patted her on the shoulders mock-consolingly. "No one wants to be around an up-tight know-it-all."

All the colour drained away from Hermione's face. Though normal people went pink or red when they were angry, Hermione turned almost as pale as Draco. She turned to him, lips slightly parted and stared at him. Draco backed away slowly uncertain what was going on.

"You really want me to disappear?" she said, her throat cloying most of her words up.

Draco gave Hermione two thumbs up. "Exactly, you'll be doing the whole world a favor."

"Hm," she muttered, Hermione strode past Draco and she leaned against the balcony rail, her back facing him.

"What?" Draco frowned, annoyed. "That's the opposite direction to the door." Wasn't she going to leave?

"Today's your lucky day," she began. Hermione sat up onto the railing, facing Draco directly. His eyes popped open in alarm as he realized what she was about to do. "Your wish's granted."

With that, she leaned backwards into the void. Someone screamed, it was high-pitched, so Draco reckoned it had to be Hermione. In a panic, Draco lunged forward and caught her by the crook of her elbow. Her body hung suspended in mid-air and Draco gritted his teeth, summoning all the strength into his fingers for gripping.

She looked up to him with a smirk on her face. "What are you doing?"

"What the fuck are _you_ doing, Granger? Are you crazy?!" Draco yelled, facing down towards her. That was his mistake. He had been on a broomstick since he could walk. He had absolutely no fear for heights but he felt an overwhelming sense of nausea. If Hermione was to fall, she would travel through a lot of air until she met her end on the cold concrete pavement.

"Let me go."


	4. Chapter 4

Draco Malfoy and His Quest to Sensibility  
by cleury

* * *

Chapter IV

* * *

Easy. It was supposed to be easy.

_She's the person you hate most. You don't even care about Potterhead and Weaselbee anymore. _

He just needed to let go. Then what he claimed as his most dearest wish would come true. Just like magic, except without any wands or spells. He could feel his fingers slipping and he directed all his strength to them, trying to tighten his grip.

"Didn't you want me gone? Dead?"

Draco gritted his teeth._ She's just a mudblood._

"You said no one wanted me in this world. I'm doing them a favour," she mimicked his falsetto from before.

_She's the one asking for it! _Though his brain told him all this, Draco continued to keep a vice-like grip on Hermione's elbow. Obviously, his body didn't want the girl to die. Draco felt a queasy sensation in his stomach. "Use your legs and push. I can't pull you up myself!"

Hermione shook her head and Draco could see the stubborn shine bright in her eyes. "You wanted me dead, now you're going to get it. Aren't you happy?"

Draco scowled, when he pulled her back up, he planned to beat her up. Future plans readied, he finally conceded. "Of course not!"

Hermione smiled softly, spiralling Draco into even further confusion. "This thing between us. The hate, it's toxic. No, don't give me that look, I'm not talking about blood purism but the insults you throw at me. It's destroying me and it's going to destroy you too."

Draco felt the strength in his fingers sapping away. "Just come back up. You can convince me more then." For the first time in his life, he was afraid for Hermione. Even when Bellatrix tortured her in front of him, he had been more afraid of what might happen to himself if he gave in and stopped his aunt. Now he was afraid for the woman. If she slipped from his grasp, she would go plummeting to her death.

Hermione raised the hand that had been dangling in the air. Draco let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Hermione smirked and wrenched Draco's hand away from the crook of her elbow. "Granger, what are you, _NO-!"_ Draco's mouth fell open. For a moment, their eyes met. Hermione smiled as she fell.

"_Shit!_" Draco swore, his legs lost feeling and gave way under him. He slunk beneath the railing for support, gasping raggedly. "She fell! Dead!" he whipped his head around, no one had seen him, if he pretended he'd been in his room all night… _Was it my fault?_ Draco raked a trembling hand through his hair. Technically, she jumped off the building herself, he even tried saving her. But she was so stubborn. To his horror, Draco let out a strangled sob. He muffled the sound with his forearm and closed his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts.

A few seconds after Hermione had jumped, Draco heard a loud thud beside him. His arms turned to jelly and he couldn't stop shaking. His hair fell from its gelled style, a few strands stuck to his clammy forehead. Draco clamped his hands over his mouth and leaned forward willing his gag reflex to pass. But the more he tried not to think about throwing up, the more nauseous he became. He turned his face towards the railing and regurgitated his dinner.

"Yuck!"

Draco wiped his mouth with his sleeve as he turned his head towards the voice. He reeled backwards and saw Hermione sprawled beside him, her hair in disarray. She winced as she tried to sit up.

"What the— Are you a ghost?" shouted Draco. She certainly didn't look transparent.

"No, I'm not," said Hermione, enjoying Draco's confusion.

"So you're alive?" Draco said quietly, breathing a sigh of relief. "So you're alive."

"I think I've proven my point. You don't actually want me to die."

Draco scowled. "That _doesn't _prove anything!"

"Yes it does," said Hermione hotly. "You were trying far too hard to save me for someone who wanted me to die."

"Anyone would have done the same in that situation!" said Draco, exasperated.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I can think of people who would happily _push_ me off the balcony, Voldemort, your father, your aunt..." Hermione held up a finger for each name she listed. Draco scowled. "What I'm getting at is that, if you truly wanted me to die, you wouldn't have tried to save me."

"If I had a second chance, I'd drop you," muttered Draco under his breath.

"What was that?" said Hermione sweetly.

"Nothing."

"Aw, you've learnt your lesson," Hermione patted Draco on the cheek in a grandmotherly fashion. "You're watching what you say so you don't hurt my feelings. You're so sweet."

He scrubbed his face with his hands, he hadn't felt so tired and utterly defeated since the war ended. He shouldn't be so affected by the likes of Hermione. Correction, he_ wasn't_ affected. "Only so you won't go jumping off buildings again." he said, wanting the ordeal to be over and to be left in peace.

"That's a good start. Now," she began in a business-like manner. "How about we tone down our insults? I mean, both of us have too much pride to avoid each other. There is no way we can be in the same room and _not_ throw quips without combusting into flames... but no more toxic insults. And if you act less…" she wrinkled her nose. "Obnoxious, I'll be less bossy."

"Um," Draco said, putting his hand up as though he was attending class. "Why are-"

"But I really don't think we can be friends," Hermione said, cutting him off. Whether it was deliberate, Draco could only guess. "Civil. I think the both of us could manage that."

Hermione gave a toothy smile and Draco scrambled backwards, hitting his head on the railing. When Hermione saw Draco's reaction, she giggled. "You're not doing well, are you?"

Draco burned tomato red and clenched his fists, ready to launch into a verbal spar with the woman.

"Did you seriously think this place would have a rooftop with no wards to prevent people from jumping?"

Draco's throat dried up and he swallowed several times before he found his voice again. His mind churned over what she said and came to a single conclusion. "You tricked _me_?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's common sense for a hospital to have wards like these," she replied.

"You weren't _sure _there would be wards?" his voice shifted into the higher registers of hysteria.

"I made an educated guess," said Hermione. "I had a point to prove."

"You and your-" exclaimed Draco.

"What?"

He breathed heavily and shook his head several times, confused. When had he last felt so strongly about something? _More like, when was the last time I had to deal with someone so annoying for such a long time without being able to fire them and ban them from ever coming near me again? _He couldn't understand just why Hermione went so far to prove a point. Even at the extent of risking her life! Didn't the war teach her life was precious or something sappy like that? "Just to teach me a lesson," Draco waved his arms in large motions to convey the incredulity. "You could've died!"

"It was a lesson that needed to be taught! I'm sure people have tried to die for sillier things." Hermione had a glint in her eye as though she suggested something. Draco looked away, arms crossed against his chest, not liking what she'd been implying one bit. He kept his mouth sewed shut and bit back his reply. Hermione chuckled, knowing she had won the round. "Truce?"

Draco grunted, having no energy to muster an adequate response.

"As loquacious as ever." Hermione held up her pinky finger. Draco looked at it and sighed.

"Really, Granger?"

"Really. Don't underestimate a pinky-promise. It's almost as potent as an Unbreakable Vow."

Draco snorted. "Sure, whatever," he hooked his pinky around Hermione's. "You happy now?"

"Ecstatic. Good night, Malfoy."

She exited the rooftop and left Draco mulling alone. Though he succeeded chasing Hermione off the rooftop, it didn't go the way he'd imagined.

It'd be lovely to say what happened next was that Draco's heart grew and he was no longer the man he was before this encounter. But that didn't happen. But just for a moment, he didn't feel quite so right... just for a moment, he could claim what he felt as his own.

"Civil, huh," he said. His eyes caught movement and he looked down to see the ginger cat. "Crookshanks, right?"

The cat meowed in reply and Draco spent the next hour of the night pondering and patting the cat's head.

* * *

Morning. The birds chirped and Draco squinted at the sunlight searing into his sleepy eyes. He hadn't shut the curtains. In the Manor, no sunlight ever reached Draco's side of the room until at least noon. The Slytherin dorms were in the dungeons so Draco never understood the need to close the curtains before going to bed. He hid his head in the sheets as though he was a mountain troll scared of the sun. For a split second he had forgotten where he had spent the night. He groaned.

"YaaaAAArrrrrRRRRggggS-S-S!"

Draco almost fell out of his bed. He rolled back to face the ceiling and the offending creature pounced on his chest, having a face-down with him bright and early in the morning. He quickly sat up and shoved the cat off his bed.

"Who let you in?" he asked Crookshanks snidely and picked the orange fur off his sheets. The fur came out in tuffs. Draco frowned and tried to recollect what happened the night before.

"Oh, that's right. You bloody cat!" Draco fussed as Crookshanks jumped onto the bed and climbed onto his lap. The orange fur-ball had spent the better part of the night sidling up to Draco, after the man finally gave up on getting it off his bed, he had allowed the cat to sleep next to him.

The cat purred contentedly. "Of course you're content. You're literally sitting in the lap of luxury," Draco played with Crookshanks' ears. "You're just as troublesome as Granger."

Crookshanks' ears lowered at the sound of Hermione's name. Draco's eyes widened and a smirked tugged at his lips. "Granger," he tried again. Sure enough, the cat hissed. Draco picked Crookshanks up and made him stand on his hind legs, shifting him left and right. "You don't like her either?" Draco asked, suddenly feeling much more affection for the cat than before, even though it was a mangly, ugly looking thing. The cat yawned in response. "You're not sentient, are you?" Crookshanks shook his head. Draco didn't know what to think.

Crookshanks purred softly, having taken a liking to the scion of Malfoy. Draco stroked the cat's head absentmindedly and the two were at peace and content in each other's company until…

"Crookshanks! Where are you?"

Draco groaned and Crookshanks' ears flattened against its skull again.

"Bloody cat!" yelled Hermione.

"Oh, so there's trouble in paradise between the two of you?" Draco waggled his eyebrows and he chuckled. "Being Granger's cat must be hard."

It appeared as though Granger had heard Draco's laugh or caught wind of Crookshanks' hissing for she opened the door to Draco's room. She stared at the scene in shock as though she had just walked in on her husband in bed with another woman. Or perhaps it was Draco's attire. Fine men did not sleep in their birthday suits, it just wasn't dignified. Instead, they slept in black silk, opting for flannel in the winter. Hermione opened her mouth, still gawking at the scene. Draco smirked at her expression.

"How did you manage to do that?" she finally uttered.

"What?"

"Crookshanks! He hates strangers."

Draco smirked. "What can I say? Even an animal's tamed after it spends a night with me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the cat. "Here, Crookshanks, come to Hermione."

"_Please!_" Draco exclaimed. He put up a hand to hide the sight of Hermione patting her thighs to lure her cat. "Do not refer to yourself in third person. That's stuff from my nightmares."

"You mean I appear in your dreams?" said Hermione coquettishly.

"Nightmares, Granger. The ones that make me scream. What?"

"Nothing. Just that I make you scream in your dreams." Hermione gave a toothy grin.

"Well-"

"There you are," Luna popped her head in sideways like an owl and entered the room.

Draco sighed. "Two females in my room and I haven't even gotten out of bed! Boy, am I popular!" _  
_

"I was wondering where you were. You were late for your session," Luna cocked her head to the side. "Since all of us are present, let's just have it here."

"Luna, I'll be taking Crookshanks and leaving. I didn't mean to impose-"

Luna turned to face Hermione. "You stay here too."

""Why?" Hermione's eyes widened.

"For two reasons," Luna held up two fingers in the air and waggled them. "Firstly, it's about what occurred last night. Secondly, it seems that Draco is much more cooperative when it's about you."

To both Draco and Hermione's immense horror, they burst out laughing.

"Cooperative?" she said. "Is that even a word to describe Malfoy?"

"I thought we were being civil!" Draco shot back, glaring at Hermione.

"There, you see?" Luna gestured to Draco who frowned. "He's trying to be civil to you. I don't think he's ever extended that courtesy to anyone. And he's talking to you instead of grunting like a caveman."

Draco sighed. "What do you make me for, some brute? And don't I get a say in this? Where are my patient rights? How am I supposed to expose my inner feelings with Stranger Granger in the room?"

Luna shook her head. "Evidence suggests the contrary. You're sleeping with her cat." Luna took Hermione by the hand and sat on the bed adjacent to Draco. Crookshanks tensed, uneasy at Luna's presence in the room. Draco rubbed the cat's chin reassuringly. He didn't feel safe with the crazy woman either.

"So, would you like to explain what happened last night?"

Draco shook his head, determined to be the least of help. Hermione's hand shot up and Draco felt as though he'd been transported back in time to a Potions class. Draco sneered out of sheer habit.

"Hermione?"

"Well, I advise you to keep close security on Draco Malfoy. From one professional to the other. He pretty much attacked me on the roof.

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did," Hermione said vehemently. "You shot insults at me like you had unlimited ammo."

"Am- what?" Draco asked automatically, frustrated he didn't understand the muggle nuance. He turned to face Luna, apparently she didn't either. But that didn't make him feel much better. "We've been through this! You enjoy taking the mickey out of me as much as I do of you."

"Two wrongs don't make a right!"

"Ha!" Draco exclaimed, shoving a finger in Hermione's direction. "So you admit you were wrong."

"Only if _you _admit it first."

Draco bit his lip. Having Granger say she was wrong was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. "Fine, I was wrong for insulting you."

Hermione smirked. "Yeah, I thought so too."

"And now you're supposed to say?"

Hermione shrugged with an innocent look on her face. "Say what?"

"Stop!" Luna stood up. The two turned to face her, having forgotten her existence. Luna took a quill out of her pocket and muttered an incantation. It looked suspiciously like the quill Rita used to write with. "Draco, could you please explain why you decided to jump off the roof?"

Draco laughed harshly. "It wasn't me, Lovegood. It was your darling friend. Dear ol' Hermione Granger."

Luna looked shocked and Hermione turned red. "You jumped off the roof? Draco wasn't the one who set off the wards?"

Hermione nodded her head slowly and for a moment all the three could hear was the quill scratching and recording every word.

"She wanted to prove a bloody point and decided to jump off a building!" Draco exclaimed. "I shouldn't be the one in here, Granger should be."

"_What?_"

Luna shook her head. "Hermione jumping off the building doesn't prove that you shouldn't be here."

"_Please_," Draco said, waving his hand to disregard Luna's notion. "I didn't try to jump off the train platform to prove a _point._"

"Problems back home then?" Luna slipped in smoothly. Draco felt his insides clench up and his jaw tightened.

"No." he snapped stonily. Why did everyone assume his parents were the bad guys? Granted, his father had been a Death Eater. But his parents had been good parents to him, just look at how he turned out! "I told you yesterday, I'm ecstatic."

"Work?"

"No," said Draco again. Malfoy enterprises ran smoothly. Especially after his inheriting the company. Draco managed to turn it from being a corrupt company into a place that was 'sugar and spice and everything nice'. Literally. Malfoy enterprises were now a major player in the confectionery industry and silk and spice trading.

"Friends?"

"No." His relationship with Nott was fine, thanks.

"Love?"

"Uh, _no._"

"Hm," Luna said, tapping her finger on her chin. "The last I heard, you were engaged to Pansy?" Luna began to suggest perhaps he'd jumped because of a broken heart. Hermione and Draco found themselves laughing at the same time again.

"Malfoy dying for love, how novel!"

"Who would die for Pansy?"

Luna looked amused at the pair. "Are you implying to me every aspect of your life is wonderful and yet you decided to jump?"

"What can I say, I'm a man of..." Draco shrugged. "Mysteries."

"No you're not." Hermione suddenly piped up. She licked her lips; something Draco noticed she did whenever she thought. She held her tongue, hesitant.

"Then what am I? Since you're the Smartest Witch of the Age, why don't I leave it up to you to answer all the questions for me? You think you know me so well anyway!"

"That's exactly it," Hermione said enigmatically.

"Exactly, what?"

"Exactly!" Luna clapped her hands together as though she discovered the secret of the universe. At this point, Draco felt more than just annoyed. _How dare they continue to string me along like this?_

"Just spit it out. What is _it_?"

Draco watched in disgust as Hermione and Luna made knowing eyes to each other. Luna plucked the quill out of the air and placed it back into her pocket. "We're done for today. Thank you for your cooperation, Draco, Hermione," she nodded and walked out of Draco's room.

"What?"

Hermione also stood up, taking her leave. "I don't disclose patient information," she said in a dramatic stage-whisper, leaning coyishly on the door frame.

_Damn you, Granger. Damn you._ Draco cursed loudly in his head. Outwardly, he gave Hermione a cheesy grin. "Haha, very funny. But you know what's even funnier?"

"What?"

"Crookshanks loves me more," Draco placed a loud smooch on top of Crookshanks' head and the cat purred. "Don't think he wants to leave, so how about he stays with me for a bit?"

Hermione huffed and stomped her foot, disappearing into the corridor.

"And they say I'm the brat!"

Crookshanks immediately started grooming himself after Hermione left, as though the spectacle he witnessed dirtied him.

"You really are an _animal_ after my own heart," Draco tickled Crookshanks' chin. "Immaculately well-groomed and you hate Granger with a passion too." _Suck on that, Granger,_ he thought. He continued doting Crookshanks just to exact a revenge on the girl. Having her beloved cat choose him over her was a small but fantastic victory.

Draco stared at the clock on the wall; it struck eleven a few minutes ago but he felt no inclination to get out of bed. After the war, he hardly felt the need to socialise or talk to anyone. And on those particular days, he didn't feel like changing out of his sleep-wear. Draco leaned back into his sheets, using it to cover his head to block out the sunlight.

"It's not like I have pants even if I did want to wear some," grumbled Draco. Hermione had indirectly ruined both his pants last night. Once with his dinner, and the second with his dinner regurgitated. Besides, he needed to mull over what Luna and Hermione made eyes at each other for. _What did they know?_ Draco thought hard for a few moments but came up with nothing. He gave up and closed his eyes in frustration. He drifted into a dream-like trance and heard voices calling him...

_Draco walked down the stairs heading towards Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. He could hear the train rumbling on its tracks. It was coming. He felt a hand reach out towards him. "Who's there?" he shouted into the darkness. __No one replied and he hurried down the steps._

_"You have to time this right!" his father yelled to him. "Else you'll risk shaming the Malfoy name."_

_Rita Skeeter appeared from behind his father's form, donned in her green business suit. She gave Draco a wave and approached him.__ She blew a kiss into Draco's face. "Could you make sure you land backwards so you're facing up? I want to make sure everyone knows who you are!"_

_Draco sneered at Skeeter. "Go away."_

_"And here I thought you were nasty to me because I'm a Mudblood."_

_Draco whirled around to face Hermione. "__I don't hate you because of your blood, I-" __There was the sound of clashing bells and Draco clamped his hands over his ears._

_"The train's approaching. I'll go first,"__ Hermione observed, _she leapt off the platform and disappeared.

_"Wait for me!" yelled Draco. Only, he couldn't move. It felt as though he was put into a body-bind._

_"Pathetic." his father appeared in front of his face and his sneering expression grew to fill Draco's vision completely. "What kind of son are you?"_

_"I'm-"_

_"Draco, you'll be late!" Narcissa Malfoy pulled her son up and tided his clothes. "And remember, you're representing our whole family."_

_"B-But mother," Draco stuttered, grabbing her shoulders. _

_"I know you'll do your best. You always do," she smiled and gave Draco. __He felt a rushing sensation and he continued falling and falling. Draco screamed and suddenly he jerked backwards and he appeared on the platform._

_"You don't think, do you?" his father sneered, only this time he turned into Hermione. Draco looked twice and instead of his father's unapproachable expression, Hermione looked like she had been crying for the last half hour. __The tears streaking her cheeks slowly turned dark brown and Draco came face to face with his mother, mascara streaming down her face. "Who are you to do this to me?"_

_Draco stepped back, surprised at the amount of venom in his mother's voice. "I-"_

_He flashed back to Luna and Hermione sharing a knowing look._

_"Exactly."_

_"Malfoy...!"_

_"Malfoy...!"_

"Malfoy!"

Draco opened his eyes to see Hermione staring at him with mild concern. He groaned and turned his back towards her. "Go away," he had no intention of getting out of bed today. Plus he didn't have a pair of pants to change into and he sure as hell wasn't going to wear pyjamas out in the public eye. Pyjamas were strictly reserved for the bedroom, thank you very much.

Hermione ignored him and began tugging at his sheets. "Seriously, this isn't your house. You have to be present at lunchtime at least."

"You don't have any authority to boss me around."

"Luna sent me to make sure you were there for lunch."

"I'm not decent," Draco said, hoping she would blush and run off like a little school girl.

Apparently not. Hermione snorted and placed her hands on her hips. "When are you ever decent?"

Draco gave a low whine and willed the pestering girl to go away. There was a brief silence and Draco's heart entertained maybe his will had manifested into reality.

"I'm still here."

Draco opened his left eye to confirm this fact. "Yup, still there," he sighed and pushed himself into a sitting position.

Hermione cracked a smile. "That's me being civil. Now I'm not," she dragged Draco out of bed by his arm and he landed on the floor with a loud thud.

"I swear when I get up I'm going to strangle you," huffed Draco.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," said Hermione as she left his room.

Draco flopped back onto his bed. _ I might collapse i__f there's anymore excitement today._

People ought to stop making those sort of statements. He probably jinxed himself there.

Funny how things worked.

* * *

Author Note: I was going to post this up yesterday but then they had the period glitch thing so I waited it out. Thanks for those who reviewed! :)


	5. Chapter 5

Draco Malfoy and His Quest to Sensibility  
by cleury

* * *

Chapter V

* * *

When Draco reached the common room, he saw Hermione sitting on the same seat as yesterday, close to the window with her nose buried in an obscure book. Feeling slightly self-conscious, Draco debated whether he should announce his presence. _What am I? Some kind of herald? _After their truce, Draco wasn't sure how to act alone around her. _Had this morning been acceptable?_ Though they traded quips at each other, they didn't feel malicious and no one ran off crying or jumped off buildings either. Draco coughed. "Good morning." After so many years of taunting Hermione mercilessly, he had an instinct to put her down and rip her self-esteem into shreds. It was hard to be civil.

Hermione snorted and flipped a page of _Alice in Wonderland._ Draco snorted too when he caught sight of her book, the cover looked stupid. _She was the one who is forcing _me_ to be civil._ Draco stared at the woman in front of him in disbelief. She just treated him like a piece of gum under her shoe!

"It _was_ a good morning, until I saw something unpleasant appear in front of me." After a moment of tense silence, Hermione seemed to reconsider her attitude. "Sorry, I instinctively went on my offensive mode. I think I'm just too used to being wary of you," she forced a smile. "Let me answer your question again. I'm fine, thank you very much."

"Nice weather, isn't it?" said Draco, attempting to make conversation. He winced and gave a grimace.

Tick. Tock.

"Yeah, surprising for Britain."

Tick. Tock.

"I think I almost prefer it when we were at each other's throats." said Hermione.

Draco grunted in agreement and they remained silent for the next ten minutes. The tension killed him and Draco jumped out of his chair in relief when he heard a shrill ring of a bell. _Lunch time!_ Draco inwardly screamed. He slammed his book shut and made his way to the door. He couldn't find any situation more awkward than the one he had just endured. Hermione pounced out of her seat, she dodged in front of Draco and rushed into the corridor.

"That hungry?" said Draco. The bell continued to ring.

"Hurry up!"

"Wow, what's the rush?" said Draco, falling in step with Hermione.

Hermione bit her lip. "Fire."

"A fire." repeated Draco.

"Yes, you dolt!" snapped Hermione. She made waving motions with her hands. "The stuff that burns. We need to get out."

"Okay," Draco said, trying not to panic. He stood completely still, trying to get his bearings. "You_ sure_ it's not a drill?"

Hermione shook her head. "We don't have drills in this place." Seeing that Draco hadn't moved an inch and looked as though he had just been petrified, she led him by the hand. "Come on! Check if anyone's in there," she ordered, shoving Draco into the bathroom. "I'll check the ladies' room."

Her shove sent Draco back into motion. "Yes, _dear_." he crooned sarcastically. The door swung shut behind him and Draco checked each bathroom stall. He wrinkled at the lack of décor. "Lino?" he scoffed. "Please, it should be marble at the very least." Satisfied there was no one hiding in the stalls, Draco exited the toilet, hoping to find Hermione outside. He waited for five seconds, tapping his foot nervously. "Did she leave without me?" he wondered aloud.

Another three seconds passed.

Draco's mind screamed at him to run and carry his body down the flight of emergency stairs and through the fire exit but his conscience told him to stay… for a while longer at least. Finally, Draco headed towards the little girl's room. "This is silly!" Draco scowled to himself. He gripped the door handle tightly, though he made no further motion to enter the female toilet. His heart sped up as though he was doing a wicked deed. The girls' bathroom was after all; sacred territory limited to the fairer sex which no mortal man hath and shall ever trespass into. Though he had no qualms in entering an _abandoned_ girl's bathroom, the idea of entering ones which were in regular use and were fully functional gave him the shivers.

Draco pressed his ear on the door and heard muffled noises. "Granger's not alone then." He waited a further ten seconds before his patience exploded. Gathering all his courage, he stared down the little girl's sign on the door. "He's just a man in a cape… man in a cape…" Then as if it was a response to his mantra, Draco heard a high-pitched yell.

"_Nooooooooo!"_

That gave Draco an extra and final incentive to storm into female-land. Just for that one day, he would play the hero and act as Hermione's knight in shining armor… only to find her hauling a girl up by her arms.

"Let go of me!" the girl between Hermione's arms struggled and the two of them ended up sprawling onto the toilet floor.

"Astoria…?" he could recognize that voice from anywhere. Boy had she changed. When was the last time he saw her? Probably during his fourth year in Hogwarts. Hermione moved to the side when she heard Draco come up behind her. He frowned and thought back to his childhood. Memories locked away for at least ten years. _Something was different about Astoria compared to the others. Oh… _Astoria was his first love. He couldn't remember when he first started liking her. The Greengrass and Malfoy estates were close to each other and so during his pre-Hogwarts years, he would often find himself in the company of the two Greengrass sisters.

Daphne had a tendency to be loud and annoying. She also gossiped riotously about _everyone_—something Draco could not, and still cannot stand in a woman. So Draco and Astoria hid from her and played their own games. It was by most part, an easy feat. The large size of the manor and the grounds provided room for the two to roam. _And more importantly, Daphne's always been stupid._

Astoria had always looked well-bred and pretty. When she was younger, her brown hair had been tied in plaits and ribbons. Now she opted for an elegant French Twist. Draco had once snipped glossy material from his mother's designer dress and gave Astoria the strip of fabric for her hair. Ten she had kissed him on the cheek as thanks. In that moment, Draco had decided Astoria would be his future wife and told her so too. Of course, once they became older and it was no longer proper to associate with the other gender—they were disgusting and had germs, Draco and Astoria never talked to each other again. By the time he got to Hogwarts, he had forgotten all about his childhood friend—distracted by Quidditch, school, friends and bullying people. Draco opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Hermione.

"Draco, help me! We need to get out."

Astoria clawed her way out of Granger's grasp. "Just leave me here to die," she said, pulling herself into a tight ball.

Despite his trip down the memory lane, Draco found it hard to care for the girl in front of him. _Guess I still can't feel empathy. _"She's made her decision. Let's go."

"He didn't mean that," said Hermione, grabbing Draco's arm. "_Do something!_" mouthed Hermione.

"What am I supposed to do? She has lost her will to live."

"No," said Hermione, shoving Draco in the chest. "I can't_ believe_ you, how could you just give up on her like that?"

"She wants to."

"I wanted to, last night." challenged Hermione. "That didn't seem to stop you from trying to save me."

"It's different," groaned Draco. "I was directly involved. I had to make a choice to save you, this is all hers."

"Okay, well how about this," said Hermione shaking her head. "I refuse to get out of here without her. I'll die trying."

Draco sighed. "Why are you making this so difficult?"

"I'm not. It's totally up to you, just like last night. If you help us, we'll all get out of here alive. If you leave, then there's a good chance Astoria and I will die here. But don't worry; it's not your _fault!_"

Draco clenched his teeth. "Always the champion of the weak."

"It's your choice." said Hermione shrugging, but she hoped Draco wouldn't call her bluff and leave.

He had been perfectly content leaving Astoria behind, it was up to her how she wanted to live and end her life. But Hermione threw a wrench in that equation. Though she said he was heartless the night before, he wasn't to the point where he'd just abandon two people in a fire and leave himself. "Astoria," Draco bent onto his knees to face the girl at eye-level. "What's wrong?"

Astoria shook her head and continued sobbing. Draco's eyebrows lifted and he patted the girl on the head. "Come on, you can trust me, can't you?" said Draco stoically. He could care less about the girl in front of him, all he wanted to do was to leave the building.

"I don't want them to find out I've been in here," she said between gasps.

Hermione sighed and kneeled beside Draco, touching the girl's shoulder. "Don't worry. If we walk quickly and catch up with everyone, no one will find out."

"You can't guarantee that. This place is famous for high profile people staying here. There's a media frenzy outside, trying to catch who's in here and what for," said Astoria as she shook her head.

"Okay, so the reporters are trigger happy and they take a few shots of you. Not the end of the world, right?" Hermione reasoned.

"Not if I wish to marry into a nice family. I'm out of Hogwarts with no promise of marriage. If this ever gets out, the good name of Greengrass will be tarnished forever!"

"Oh," said Hermione, taken back by Astoria's explanation.

"Oh indeed," said Draco.

"But is a good name worth dying for?" asked Hermione, trying to reason with Astoria.

"Yes!" said Astoria.

Draco turned to Hermione. "Our name and family values essentially defines who we are. I don't think you can even begin to understand."

"For us pure-blood girls, marriage is the most important thing," explained Astoria. "Don't look disgusted. If you think females should have the right to choose their career paths, then you should respect mine. I was brought up to be and _want_ to be a good house-wife."

"I wasn't saying that it's a bad thing!" Hermione denied, waving her hands. "But don't you think there are other options out there? Like being independent and making your way through the world?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "This is hardly the time for career counselling. Astoria here wants to be a house-wife and she is very well entitled to."

"Thank you," sniffed Astoria. "But my plans of marriage are being ruined as we speak. No one from a good family would be willing to marry me if they found out I took therapy sessions."

"There's nothing wrong with therapy," said Hermione hotly. "Besides, almost everyone has a therapist nowadays."

"I can't risk it!" yelled Astoria. "I'm already at the bottom of the barrel as it is."

"You're not," said Draco, trying to muster tenderness in his voice.

Astoria looked up at Draco, tears shining in her eyes. "You really think that?" she said, sniffing.

"Totally."

Hermione looked as though she was about to faint. Draco Malfoy complimenting someone was by no means a daily occurrence.

"It's going to be fine. We'll get out without anyone noticing. Trust me."

"Yeah," chimed Hermione. "And don't forget, a rumour only lasts for 99 days."

"_You're not helping at all_!" mouthed Draco furiously. He pulled Astoria up with him and held his other hand to his heart. "You can trust a Malfoy's words. Come."

Hermione could see the gears churn in Astoria's head and suddenly, Astoria wanted to live. "Thank you!" she said, giving Draco a bashful smile, which most girls could only ever dream to imitate. Hermione cringed and pretended to gag. With renewed vigour, the three of them rushed for the doors. They sped down the corridor and flew down the emergency staircase. Finally, they reached the ground floor, smoke billowed from the sides of the corridors and Astoria coughed. Hermione held her sleeve against her mouth and motioned for the others to do the same.

Tears in her eyes, Astoria started panicking, gripping Draco's hand with a vice-like grip. "What do we do? Are we going to die?"

"No one is going to die." said Draco.

Hermione watched the scene and felt as though she was intruding in some sappy romantic movie. _Now all that needed to happen is for Draco to die tragically while saving Astoria,_ thought Hermione.

"What?" said Draco, catching her evil grin.

"You would have played the perfect knight for the damsel in distress if you weren't the most self-preserving git I know."

"You're a barrel of laughs," said Draco. He turned to face Astoria. "Stay low to the ground and don't panic."

"W-Why?" said Astoria, her voice an octave higher.

"Just do as he says," said Hermione eyeing the exit. Outside, Draco could see a crowd of photographers and reporters, stalking the entrance like predators, waiting to tear apart anyone who came out of the building.

"I _can't_ do this, they'll find out," cried Astoria. She tugged her hand away from Hermione's and made her way up the stairs again.

"Astoria!" hissed Hermione. For a moment she looked torn, the exit... safety was in front of her eyes while Astoria headed back to imminent death.

Draco could feel the temperature of the room rise and looked around him, the plastic cover on the tables curved and parts of the floor popped and large bubbles formed from the heat. He looked at Hermione, her face marred with concern. She looked backed at him. Draco could see it in her eyes. There was no way she would consider leaving Astoria behind. _I have to do something! _Draco ran back and grabbed Astoria's hand, stopping her from making further progress. "Your photo's not going to be taken."

"You don't know that!" wept Astoria. She coughed, tears streaking down her cheeks from the smoke.

Draco grew desperate. He could feel the smoke in his lungs. "If your photo is taken and your suitors turn you down because of it, then…"

Hermione held her breath.

Astoria looked up at Draco with dewy eyes.

"I'll take responsibility and marry you."

No one breathed for the next couple of seconds.

"You'll _what?_" screeched Hermione as though she was the one being proposed to.

Draco took Astoria's hands into his. "I'll marry you, so you don't have to worry about tarnishing the good name of Greengrass." Now that he thought about it, Astoria wasn't a bad match for him. She was everything required in a wife, pretty, pure-blooded and held a strong loyalty to her family. Since he couldn't feel, he didn't care who he'd marry. It didn't have to be Astoria but she belonged in his world and it'd made things easier if everyone approved.

"Oh, Draco, would you?" squealed Astoria.

"Yes." replied Draco, satisfied to see she had the will to live again. Now they could all get out safely. He looked over at Hermione and she nodded at him. He nodded back before he let go of Astoria's hands, dashing towards the fire exit. He sprinted with a speed that could shame an athlete—Malfoys were not known for their athletic prowess outside Quidditch.

"Those horrible, horrible people. Imagine making money out of people's misery!"

When Draco heard Hermione cuss at the reporters, he smirked. That was what the Malfoy enterprises equated to until recently. _Father, aren't you proud of me? Turning your Death Eater corps into sugar-land. Take that. _Draco turned back to the see the two girls still on the other side of the cafeteria. Draco held up his hands—the universal hand sign for "stop and wait". He stepped through the fire exit. Smoke poured out of the opening as the heat escaped to the cool air. "You got me," yelled Draco in his loudest-outdoor voice. It felt raw and it possessed a strange metallic quality. "I, the great Draco Malfoy, have been staying in this institution for very _extreme_ reasons. If you want to know why, follow me before natural selection whisks me and all you idiots away."

It took a moment for the cameramen and reporters to process his words, then they dashed after him. Draco smirked and sighed with relief, his plan had worked perfectly. He turned and waved the reporters along and they flocked to him like mindless sheep. He felt like the Piped Piper, taking almost the whole population away from the entrance. Note the almost. A few reporters hung back, deciding it was better to wait, just in case there was someone else more interesting than Draco Malfoy.

Draco placed his hands on his hips and pouted, in _his_ world no one was more interesting than him. It also certainly put a wet blanket on his plans. Now Astoria still had a risk of being exposed, he couldn't tell the other reporters to come too, it might make everyone else suspicious. Beneath the bright sun, Draco bit his lip. He wondered what to do and ran out of ideas. Time was also running out. "Free photos, this way!" said Draco. He waved his arms at the peril of looking tacky. Five seconds later, he heard a dramatic cough. Draco smirked, no one was paying her much attention. Hermione made her way through the crowd, all the time heading towards Draco.

"I have information on The-Boy-Who-Lived's first born!"

As if under the Imperius Curse, the remaining cameramen trailed after her obediently and to Draco's utmost horror, even some of the cameramen from his herd turned their attention to Hermione. Soon, all eyes were on her, never mind the burning building behind them. During this time, Astoria appeared through the fire exit and rushed to the assembly point, hoping to blend in with the rest of the patients. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to be married to her. Not yet. Maybe in the future.

Hermione stood beside Draco and cupped her hands over her mouth to amplify her voice. "Just kidding!" The crowd looked up in disbelief. Hermione grabbed Draco's hand and laced her fingers around his. "Run!" And as though that was the catalyst to an incredible chemical reaction, chaos descended.

"Are you mad?" panted Draco as the pair sprinted down the street. "What did you do that for?"

"Didn't have the heart to force someone into a loveless marriage," said Hermione.

"Aw, you're such a bleeding heart."

"I was referring to Astoria."

The cameramen still hot on their heels, they turned a corner and flew across the road. A car approached them. Its honk blared and the brakes screeched, slicing the air. Hermione turned towards Draco with horror, realizing there was absolutely nothing they could do except to wait for their inevitable end.

Draco turned to face Hermione—

she saw the look in Draco's eyes—

he realized he didn't want to die, intentionally _or_ accidentally—

Hermione tried to fling Draco away—

he held on—

closed his eyes—

_SCREECH!_


	6. Chapter 6

Draco Malfoy and His Quest to Sensibility  
by cleury

* * *

Chapter VI

* * *

A slight chill slid down Draco's back. He tried to rationalize the pain. He was positive the car didn't touch him. Hermione groaned underneath him.

"Argh..."

Draco's eyes widened. _She got hit?!_

"Get off me, you're heavy."

Okay, so she wasn't. He winced and rolled to the side, landing on soft grass.

"Wandless Apparition? And where are we?"

Draco craned his neck and surveyed his surroundings. "My apple orchard?"

"I'm not even going to ask why you have one."

"I like apples?"

"Normal people would just buy some from the store."

"Hey," Draco said, placing an arm on top of Hermione. "You can't be mean to me. We're meant to be civil. Not to mention I saved your life twice in the last 24 hours."

"With that in mind, think you can manage to apparate us back to the institute?" Hermione grabbed onto Draco's hand suddenly. "And no, you're not going to escape… without taking me too."

"Relax, I don't think I can even stand up in the next few minutes. Wandless Apparition takes a lot out of me." That was a lie; he couldn't apparate right now because the fright of the almost accident short-circuited Draco's brain. His brain was paralysed with fear and worked overtime with adrenaline, Draco didn't think he could concentrate hard enough to count backwards from ten.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Don't try anything funny, I don't want to get splinched in a side-along."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Save yourself."

"I was thinking about saving you."

Hermione snorted. "Liar." Draco couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Why do _you _think I did it? Bet you know the answer."

"Oh, I do," she said with a smug smile. "But I think it's better for you if you admit it with your own lips."

Draco sighed and stared up through the tree and into the afternoon sky. He locked his lips together, feeling particularly stubborn.

"Come on! You can do it," coaxed Hermione.

"Fine, maybe I don't want to die, even if it doesn't look like an accident. Happy now?"

"Positively ecstatic."

Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He turned to Hermione, being with her was like blindly picking and eating _Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans_ candy. He never knew what was going to happen next with her. One moment, she was a calm and rational person—unmovable like a strong pillar. The next moment she would throw herself off a building just to prove a point. He couldn't figure her out.

"Now all you have to do is figure out why you felt like that," said Hermione patting Draco on the stomach.

"Trying to get a feel if I have abs?"

"Don't think I felt any."

Sometimes Draco wondered how Harry and Ron put up with her sharp comebacks. But he decided he didn't mind her quick quips too much. For too long he had isolated himself from the world and he did miss intelligent conversation. So far, and for the last few months, she was the only one he felt like he had talked properly to. Then he scowled, annoyed at his own person. He could sense the danger of paying too much attention to her. In his life, he had often glanced at Hermione without admiration. Now he found himself analyzing her strange character and not without acknowledging the good aspects of her disposition.

"So why did we have to run away?"

"Aside from the fact that I should be really worried if Harry has a son? I mean, Harry's been in Russia for the past year for his final round of Auror training."

"Hermione Granger, the Golden Princess, lied?" said Draco. "In front of all those witnesses? I'm aghast."

"I'm quite adept at lying. Nobody notices, they all presume I'm some sort of goody-two-shoes. Which of course, I am most of the time." Hermione smiled cheekily at him. "This might come to a surprise, but the Sorting Hat offered me to be in Ravenclaw _and_ Slytherin before placing me into Gryffindor."

"You chose Gryffindor over Slytherin?" said Draco. "Please, I don't think I can handle any more surprises today."

Hermione giggled and Draco guffawed loudly.

"So no baby, huh?"

"Nope."

"Stupid Potter!" growled Draco. He didn't like the thought of losing to anything of Potter, imaginary or not.

Hermione turned to her side, her face wide with a grin. "The-Boy-Who-Lived trumps Malfoy."

"It was an imaginary baby spawned by Potter that won. It just so happens babies tend to grab more media attention," said Draco, wrinkling his nose. "You know, because babies have the cute factor and all."

"Uh-huh," said Hermione. "Well, I can totally see why you lose in that area."

Draco frowned haughtily. "I'm proud that I am not cute, Granger, I've always been more of the winsome sort."

"Hm!"

"What? Besotted by my great looks?"

"I was just thinking how we're managing a somewhat lengthy conversation without having to kill each other or suffer those god-awful awkward silences."

"Small talk has never been my forte."

"Now it's my turn to be shocked. Draco Malfoy, admitting he's not perfect at everything."

"No, that's your job, isn't it?"

"But really? The weather? I'd rather talk about Quidditch."

"Do you even know anything about Quidditch?"

"No," came the short reply.

"Now it's my turn to be surprised, the great know-it-all doesn't know everything."

The two of them sat in content silence for a while, enjoying the sense of peace between them. It felt surreal that for once there was no malice in their conversation—even if they were throwing insults at each other as they had always done.

"I'm glad."

"Glad? Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?" gasped Hermione, then she bit her lip.

Draco raised an eyebrow at the woman beside him, sensing she had something more to say.

"I'm glad too."

"Well, I'm _glad_ your opinion of me has changed," Draco said. It was only until he spoke those words, did he realize how sincere they were. "Besides, there are some things you really can't share without changing your opinion of each other. It might not be as major as fighting and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll, but saving a girl out of a burning building is one of them."

Hermione gave Draco a side-ways look, as if she didn't really know whether to feel pleased or exasperated. "Are you mocking the bond of friendship between the Golden Trio?"

"Oh, are you mocking the bond between the Silver Duo?" he pointed to himself and poked Hermione on the side.

"Oh, you think you're so cute," said Hermione.

"No, I told you I don't. I think I'm quite the handsome character," he sniffed and stood up. "I think I can apparate without splinching anyone now." He extended his hand to Granger. "Gimme your hand."

Hermione touched Draco's hand for the barest of moments.

* * *

They reappeared in front of the institution and they let go of each other. By then, all the media had been driven away by the relevant authorities and the patients were being guided to their respective places.

"Mr. Malfoy." said one of the orderlies escorting them to a new section of the hospital. He nodded to Hermione. "Miss Granger."

"Can I use the phone?" asked Draco. "Just one call, I need to let my mother know I'm all right. She'd be sick with worry."

The man nodded and led Draco to the reception area, he stood behind Draco watching him like a hawk.

"Please! Some privacy!" exclaimed Draco.

The orderly frowned but nonetheless acquiesced. He sat on the plastic chairs, waiting for the blond man to finish his business.

And_ business_ it was, Draco was not calling his mother, but rather his right-hand man.

Exactly one and a half minutes later, Draco stood in front of the orderly and gave a nod to him. "You can take me back now."

The orderly led Draco through a myriad of corridors until they reached a staircase. "You have to stay in this wing of the institute until your section's been cleared by the fire department."

Draco scowled at the news, he'd just gotten settled in his old room too. Now he'd have to readjust to this building. He shivered, he didn't like the feeling of this place. It gave him a sense of calamity and made him self-conscious. He surveyed his surroundings, no one besides him and the orderly were there but it felt like people were _watching _him. His musings stopped short when he saw a woman at the entrance of the corridors.

"Thanks," said Draco. The orderly considered himself dismissed and he left the two.

"Draco," Astoria said, hugging her sides tightly. "Thank you. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here right now."

"No problem. Any time for you," he ran his fingers through his hair and spoke again. "I admired your pride and loyalty to your clan. You would've made your family proud, had they known what had happened today."

Astoria giggled behind her hand. "Knowing you, you'd have dealt with the press.

It sounded as though the light summer breeze had blown through light bells. It was different from Hermione's grating laugh that always sounded like she was superior to him.

"So I take it you don't want to marry me then?" asked Draco.

"No, it's not that." said Astoria. "I just didn't want to get you that way."

"What do you mean?" asked Draco, his brows furrowing.

"I didn't want to enter the possibility of marriage under some sort of deal. I want you to come to that conclusion on your own."

Draco shook his head slightly. "Malfoys always act on our own desires."

"Like how you only proposed to me to save Hermione Granger?"

Draco frowned. "I did that for me. And then for you, and then possibly for Granger. But consider yourself placed before her."

"No doubt you think that."

Astoria approached Draco and went on her tippy-toes, giving a slight peck on the cheek. She took out a handkerchief to wipe his brow. "Make sure you get better soon. Once we're out of here, I fully intend to see you again. And don't underestimate me. Members of the Greengrass never settle for second… I might be declaring war on the wrong person."

"Huh."

She handed him the handkerchief and walked away. "Don't give it back, I expect a new one."

Draco tucked the handkerchief into his pocket and headed for the shower, suddenly conscious about how he smelt. _Slithering Salazar, was that how I smelt when Astoria approached me?_

* * *

Post shower. In the late afternoon, shafts of sunlight hit a crystal decoration, making little patterns dance all over the walls. Normally, Draco hated this sort of thing and demanded his elves to remove such an atrocity at once. But today, given what happened; Draco was in a considerable mood and tolerated the sparkly thing's presence.

He saw Hermione sprawled on the lounge sofa, reading a book. Though he could say their relationship improved, Draco wondered if he should draw attention to himself, fearing it might be a repeat of what happened this morning.

He coughed tentatively. "Good afternoon," he said. _It was best to be civil first. _Apparently, Draco's efforts and success in rescuing Astoria pleased the holier-than-thou Hermione. She smile and snapped the book shut and put it to the side, sitting up. "Very well, thank you. I was having such a fine time reading the latest on the _Basic Game Play to Quidditch._"

"Well, if anything troubles that big head of yours, The Great Draco Malfoy will be happy to be of assistance."

Hermione tilted her head sideways as though she was attempting to size Draco up. Draco made a face at her. _Hmph. _As if a Malfoy could be measured in one glance. They were multi-faceted. Like snow-flakes. _Absolutely fabulous._

"Think we'll make the evening post?" she asked.

"No," he shook my head. "I don't think so."

"Tomorrow then," Hermione patted Draco consolingly on the shoulder as he took a seat beside her. "Like I said before, a rumor only lasts for 99 days."

"Sure," he said with a grin. "They definitely do."

Hermione caught the grin on Draco's face and frown lines appeared her forehead. "You didn't bribe them, did you?" she uttered the question as though she would die if she ever committed such a heinous act.

"No," he responded truthfully. Now it was his turn to frown. He hadn't lied for the whole day and hadn't felt the desire to. Strange, and yet curiously uplifting. "I wouldn't resort to bribing. Malfoys don't make offers, we make demands. Why bother bribing them when you can just buy the whole publishing company?"

"_You what?_"

Draco shrugged, feeling awfully proud of himself. "It'll just be an internal change; I don't think any of the personnel will be affected," he lifted his left eyebrow up and mimicked a sleazy businessman. "The people will still have their unfiltered filth they call news written by Skeeter."

Hermione snorted once again and flounced in her seat. "Unless it's about you, you self-preserving git."

A smug smile crossed his face. "Isn't it always?"

_Ba-dump._

There was a large swooshing sound and a nurse came and entered the common room. "Mr Malfoy?" she said. "You have a visitor."

"Who?" asked Draco. No one was supposed to know he was here.

"Narcissa Malfoy."

Frown lines etched into Draco's forehead. "I'll find my way there."

"Very well, she's waiting in Visiting room C."

"If you'll excuse me," said Draco to Hermione, getting off the sofa. He walked across the lounge and into a room with a plaque that said "TOILET" hanging on its door.

Hermione cracked a smile and rushed after Draco. "I'm almost certain your mother won't be in there."

"You never know. Malfoys like to rendezvous in unthinkable places."

"If you don't want to meet with her, why don't you just say so? They'll send her back, no questions asked."

Draco scowled. "They'll start writing reports about how I have a mother complex, right?"

"Do you?"

"_No!_" he spat out. "I just don't want her to see me in this attire or in this place," Draco placed his hands on Hermione's shoulders. "Look, tell my mother I'm sick. I'm not going to see her."

"You owe me one."

"Yeah, whatever."

Hermione turned around and headed towards the visitor's room. Draco sighed out of relief and made his way into the men's room, locking himself in a stall. He crouched down and leaned against the cubicle door. "It's not that I don't want to see her," he said to the toilet bowl. "She'd probably faint if she saw the state of the bed sheets in my room. You see, I'm doing this all to protect her!" Despite his rationalizations, his thoughts made Draco queasy. His nose started to itch and his eyes watered. He quickly headed knelt towards the toilet bowl and lurched perilously over. Shivers ran through his chest and he gagged a few times, so hard that it felt like he sprained his tongue. Draco coughed a few times and regurgitated whatever was left in his stomach.

Draco heard a faint knock on his cubicle door. Quickly, he grabbed and ripped a piece of paper from the toilet roll and wiped his mouth.

"It's taken," he barked. _Couldn't a man throw up in private?_

"It's me," said Hermione.

Draco groaned as he flushed the toilet and rested against the cubicle door. "Of course it's you," snapped Draco. He didn't want to come out and he wanted to be alone."I think you've made a mistake. This is the men's bathroom. The women's one is next door."

"I came in to report. Your mother, who was told by Mrs. Greengrass, who was told by Astoria, found out what happened today."

"Word travels fast," _Damn Astoria, why did she tell her mother? _The Astoria he remembered would've kept quiet about these things._ If only she wasn't so pretty, it'd be much easier to get angry at her. _"I don't like Astoria, she's fickle." he whined.

Hermione snorted and Draco could imagine Hermione rolling her eyes at him. "Says the pot."

Draco felt her sit down and lean against the other side of the toilet door.

"You're meant to leave after your report. In the very first place, you're not allowed in the men's bathroom. It's sacred man-land."

"Is it?" said Hermione, doubt lacing her voice.

For a while she didn't say anything and it pleased Draco. _Maybe she'll get up and go now. _But then she had to ruin the silence.

"Malfoy?" said Hermione in a small voice. "Do you plan to sit here forever?"

"I've started to like sitting on the toilet floor since my bottom heated up the tiles. It's pretty comfortable. Can you leave? I want to be alone."

"Why?"

"Because I hate people worrying about me."

Hermione sighed. "I'm not _worrying_, I'm _caring_."

"Well…"Draco wasn't sure how to respond. He never had someone say _that _to him as a response. "Thanks?"

He closed his eyes and he was grateful for the silence. _Maybe Granger wasn't so bad after all. _Whatever he had between Hermione—though he didn't feel they were friends, felt solid. Like something he could rely upon. _As with Astoria…_ Draco's head flopped to the side. He didn't like how she ran off to tell her mother about him. Even blabber-mouth Pansy knew what she could gossip about and always kept tight-lipped about Draco. He heard a rustle and felt Hermione get up from the she floor, tearing him away from his thoughts.

"I don't think I can make this our local haunt. I'm starting to get cramps on my bum. I'm heading back to the sofa, the books are calling me."

Draco lifted his head off the walls. "I'm staying. The toilet and I just got acquainted."

He heard the bathroom door squeak and the shuffling of feet. "Have fun and come back when you're ready." Draco smiled. Though he rather be whipped by the Whomping Willow than admit it, he was happy she cared enough to check up on him—even entering the men's bathroom when there was an _obvious_ stigma about entering the opposite gender's toilets. She knew when to retreat and give him the right amount of space so he could ponder and think things on his own.

_Ugh, wait. _Draco smashed his fist to the wall. _No, __I don't have feelings. But__ yet I can't deny the last 24 hours had been an emotional roller-coaster._

Wham. _I felt hatred, surprise, malice, shock. __The cause of all this being… _Wham. _Granger._

Now there were more feelings he had to claim as his own.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco Malfoy and His Quest to Sensibility

by cleury

* * *

Chapter VII

* * *

He scampered out of the men's bathroom, fearing for his life. He flew right into Hermione, who had camped outside the men's room, waiting for Draco. She looked at him. His stomach reacted as though he had just swallowed a bottle of soap.

"Malfoy," said Hermione with a slight frown. "Everything all right?"

"Bloody brilliant!" yelled Draco so loudly, several heads turned to face him. _Great, more attention. _He turned around and wanted to run back in the toilet to hide. _If only Father could see me now! Taking refuge in a toilet!_ He suspected his father would rip his precious locks of hair out.

"Malfoy."

Draco closed his eyes and turned around, knowing that Hermione had been right behind him. "Yes, Granger?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Are you all right?"

"Bloody brilliant."

"No, really what's wrong?"

Draco stomped on the ground. "Maybe I'm just annoyed at you being a nosy little twat. Mind your own business!"

"Malfoy—"

"Who cares! I've had it with your acts of humanitarianism. Actually, since you're _so _concerned with the welfare of elves, perhaps _every-thing-that-breathes-nitarian_ would be a better fit!"

She caught the panicked look on Draco's face and decided to change the subject. "Your mother is visiting. this time you _have_ to go."

"And why's that?" said Draco scathingly.

"Your mother's invited _me_ along with Astoria for some tea. She made it very clear there'd be hell if I declined. Since there is no way I'm going to be left alone with them, you're coming with."

"You're going to hell and you're dragging me with you?"

"You owe me one, and you are going to show up to your mother's tea party tomorrow."

"The reason I owed you was to avoid my mother!"

Hermione smirked. "You didn't set explicit premises when you said you owed me. From what I recall, you just went 'yeah' and that was it."

"_Youcan'tmakeme."_

"Of course _I_ can't. But a Malfoy won't go back on his words, right? And right now, one Hermione Granger is telling one Draco Malfoy to attend the visiting session with his mother tomorrow," said Hermione smiling evilly.

* * *

"Package from Mrs. Malfoy."

He groaned and got up. By the time he opened the door, the deliverer was gone. Draco grabbed the parcel and tore it open, the contents spilling out on his bed. Along with his change of clothes for the tea party, there was a note.

_Visitor Room C at twelve._

Draco looked up to the clock and sighed, it was already half-past eleven. Draco changed his shirt and tucked it into his pants; he did the top two buttons of his waist-coat, leaving the last one undone. He grimaced as he straightened the spread collar on his dress-shirt and tightened his tie into a Windsor knot. He glanced up at the clock again.

Five till twelve.

Draco raked his fingers through a tub of gel, styled his hair and left his room.

His mother and Astoria were already outside of Visiting Room C, waiting for him and Hermione. Narcissa walked over to Draco, her high heels clacked on the wooden floor.

"Draco, dear," she said.

"Mother," said Draco, greeting her with a nod. "Astoria."

Astoria gave a twirl in response. "What do you think?"

Astoria donned a light flower-print dress in pink and white. On her head perched a simple headband—that is, if simple was the definition of a cluster of diamonds.

"Very nice," complimented Draco, giving Astoria a serious assessment. He learnt from Pansy where and what to look for. "Nice touch with the headband, wearing no jewellery would be too simple but wearing a necklace would be too much."

Astoria beamed. "You wouldn't believe where I bought it from!" she gushed excitedly about the designer store in Paris.

Draco nodded, expressionless. He found it hard to pay attention to the girl's chattering.

"It appears you have arrived on time, another minute and you'd be late like that girl…" his mother trailed off, looking right past Draco.

Draco turned to see Hermione.

"Miss Granger."

"Yes, I am," said Hermione, placing her hands on her hips. "Apparently no one told me there was a dress code."

Draco scowled at his mother.

"But luckily, I was prepared."

Hermione dressed in a simple blue one-piece and tied her hair up in an elegant twist. Though she was by no means as fancily dressed as his mother and Astoria, what she wore was appropriate for the occasion. She did look quite nice, though Draco refused to acknowledge the fact.

Out loud to her, at least.

"Oh, good. You didn't embarrass yourself," said Narcissa snottily. "I was going to send a reminder to tell you to wear something decent, but it might've been rude."

"No, you wouldn't want to risk embarrassing me until the actual event, right?" Hermione shot back.

Narcissa didn't reply, giving a tight-lipped smile to Draco instead. "Come in, I've got everything prepared inside."

Draco gave Astoria his arm, who latched on daintily before they moved into the room, his mother leading the way. Hermione followed a few steps behind. Draco kept the door open for Astoria and misjudged the distance between the two girls, thinking Hermione would have gone through the door in time. The door ended up slamming in front of Hermione's face.

She frowned, and Draco looked away, guilty. He didn't apologize and he didn't want to speak to Hermione, uncomfortable at how she alone could elicit some kind of emotion out of him. Even if most of it was hate—that he could deal with, but Draco was alarmed about the element of non-hate in there.

Astoria complimented Narcissa on her taste of decorations and squealed at the sight of the enormous cake tower.

"This is incredible, Mrs. Malfoy," breathed Hermione, impressed at the display.

"Thank you, Miss Granger."

Astoria let go of Draco's arm as he pulled his mother's chair at the head of the table. When she was properly seated, Draco pulled out Astoria's chair. Astoria smiled. Draco sat beside Astoria and saw Hermione seated adjacent to him on the other side. _Lovely, now I'm forced to look at her the entire time! _Draco scowled and fiddled with the teacup in front of him.

"Don't fuss," his mother scolded. She rolled her eyes at Astoria. "I swear, he never grew up."

Astoria smiled behind her hand. "I think that's adorable."

Hermione cracked a grin. "Just like Peter Pan," she mouthed.

"_Who?_" Draco mouthed back, annoyed at another muggle reference he didn't understand. It made things worse when Hermione gave a nonchalant shrug.

Narcissa rolled her eyes, annoyed Hermione brought up a muggle expression in front of her. She ignored Hermione's comment and turned to face Astoria, taking a slice of cake and passed it to the young woman. "You just have to try this cake, it's marvellous."

Astoria popped a morsel in her mouth. "Oh, it's rich in flavour."

Narcissa nodded. "A new carrot-cake recipe," she said as she turned to Draco. "Have one too."

Before he could refuse, a large slice of carrot cake appeared on his plate. He scowled.

"Miss Granger, would you like a piece of cake? I'm assuming you've never eaten cake before," said Narcissa. "Let me explain what it is…"

Draco could only watch in horror as his mother explained to Hermione what a cake was, making exaggerated and pointing motions at various objects in the room. It took all his restraint to resist screaming in embarrassment.

"So _that's_ a piece of cake?" echoed Hermione, speaking as though she was a three-year old. "Wow! People like me don't get to eat cake."

Draco rolled his eyes at Hermione's comment which dipped in sarcasm.

"Oh," said Narcissa with surprise, she did not grasp the concept of sarcasm and assumed all muggle-borns were shallow in experience and intellect. "Well dear, please eat more… if you normally don't have a chance to eat such delicacies. It's strange, I thought for sure, _mud_gles ate cake."

"Good _heavens_, no!" admonished Hermione.

"Well eat up," said Narcissa, smiling graciously as though she had done an extremely magnanimous deed.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," said Hermione grabbing a piece of chocolate cake. Narcissa nodded, having accomplished her great act of charity. That taken care of, she turned to more important things. That was to fawn over the latest gossip with Astoria.

"So I heard Daphne's son is almost due. Isn't that exciting?"

Astoria nodded. "I don't think she's quite ready to be a mother, her head's still in the clouds."

"Marriage, parenthood, is anyone ever ready for that?" said Narcissa, waving her hands dismissively. "Speaking of marriage, how old are you this year, Astoria?"

"Eighteen," replied Astoria, turning pink.

Narcissa grabbed Astoria's hand. "And such a sweet dear not engaged yet!"

"No, I'm afraid I'll be an old maid."

"_Never,_" gasped Narcissa. She glanced at Draco. "Not if I can help it. It's a shame. If I knew Draco was going to turn out like this, I would have betrothed the both of you before he claimed his inheritance. Now that he's legitimately the head of the House of Malfoy… well you know. We are bound to follow his wishes."

"Oh?" said Hermione suddenly perking up, new pieces of information always interested her. Old magic and pure-blooded families intrigued her especially as the families were tight-lipped about the magic that surrounded them. They feared outsiders would find a weakness and exploit them. "You mean, you're magically bound to follow what Mal—Draco says?" asked Hermione. She winced at saying Draco's given name but it seemed rude to refer to his last name in front of his mother.

Narcissa stopped, taken back at Hermione joining the conversation. "Why yes," she said. "I guess a mudgle like you would not be familiar with ancient family traditions. If Draco commands something, all Malfoy family members are magically bound to follow his wishes."

Hermione frowned. "That's horrible."

"Isn't it?" said Narcissa.

Hermione looked slightly taken back, surprised Narcissa agreed with her.

"If Draco decides to be a bachelor, I can't do anything!"

Hermione almost burst out laughing. She had been expecting too much, she might be able to be on the same page as Narcissa Malfoy, but it would never be for the same reason.

"Worse, I can't choose who he decides to marry," said Narcissa with a sigh. "That is one regret I have as a mother. I was too busy restoring our family name after the war, I ignored my son's future happiness."

"Well don't worry," said Astoria, grinning smugly. "You should've heard what he said to me the other day…" She leaned in and whispered in Narcissa's ear, giggling.

_Astoria isn't like this. _Draco frowned. No, that was incorrect. Astoria _wasn't_ like that. Whoever was in front of him was no longer the sweet and most importantly non-gossipy Astoria from his memory. That girl had disappeared during her time in Hogwarts and had her sweet nature had been replaced with cattiness in the process of fighting to be the most eligible bride in her teenage years.

_People can change so much. It was ironic, had she not changed she would've been the perfect bride,_ Draco thought ruefully.

As Astoria and his mother continued to gossip about the latest fashion and about what the other ladies had worn to a gathering the other week; Draco shook his head, his mind made up. He hated girls who kiss and told everyone. Even blabbermouth Pansy kept tight-lipped when it came to their relationship. It was one of the characteristics he truly adored Pansy for and the reason why they lasted so long.

Thankful he had the foresight to buy off the publishing companies and was in no danger of ever marrying Astoria, he let out a quiet sigh of relief and went on to tackle his next problem. One that was literally staring him right in the face. He glared at his carrot cake, wondering if he could make it disappear without his wand. Though Draco would get this way and his mother couldn't force him to eat the cake, she would still nag at him until she gave up. Draco wasn't in the mood for her pestering. He looked up to Hermione, who looked like a whale beached on the sand. She sipped her tea constantly, uncomfortable with the situation. She got him looking and shot her a glare that read, _this is all your fault._

_"If you weren't so stubborn. We wouldn't be here,"_ mouthed Draco.

"_You were the one being unbelievable,_" she mouthed back. Hermione looked down at Draco's untouched carrot cake and smirked. "Serves you right."

Draco glowered at Hermione and took a sip of his tea, drinking the hot liquid in gulps before setting his cup down with a clink. The noise caught Narcissa's attention. "Draco, you're not being a very good host. Don't put a damper on things like you always do and talk to darling Astoria here," said Narcissa sharply. "Hermione. I'm sorry, I forgot you were there."

Hermione smiled stiffly, wondering why Narcissa invited her if she couldn't tolerate her presence. "Don't worry, Mrs. Malfoy. I was busy pretending I wasn't here."

Draco could see a tic forming under Hermione's eye, it seemed to always form when she was distressed. His mother was getting to her. _Well good riddance!_ he thought. If he was going to suffer, he was glad the know-it-all did too.

Astoria smiled coyly at him and he shook his head, people changed. but his attention turned to Hermione, as she not-so-subtly stood up for herself. _But old habits never die. _"I'm afraid I'm not a very social person," said Draco to Astoria, tired of the conversation already. Plus, he hadn't figured how to get rid of the carrot cake.

Astoria huffed and joined Narcissa and Hermione's conversation "You've polished off the chocolate cake and moved onto the carrot cake." You have such a big appetite for a girl. No wonder why you're so round the edges," she said as she looked at Hermione who blinked quickly.

"How did you find it?" asked Narcissa. "As a mudgle, would you able to convey your thoughts in a way which I can understand?"

"I'm afraid I'm not in a position to describe the taste," said Hermione quite truthfully. _How could such a beautiful woman be so rotten?_

"You don't have to be ashamed," declared Narcissa. "I'm sure you're doing better than most mudgles_._"

Hermione bit her tongue, trying her best to keep her temper in check.

"You must tell me more about mudgles," said Narcissa. "I heard that many of them don't wear clothes and don't live in houses. What are they like?"

Hermione's hands shook as she took a sip of her tea. "There are some races of people that choose to live in the wilderness. However, most of us live in the city with clothes and roofs over their heads."

"That comes as a surprise! Back in my days at Hogwarts, during Mudgle Studies, the mudgles were doing the most awful and strange things—"

"No really," Hermione cut in. "They're just like you, Mrs. Malfoy. Muggles are sentient and have _feelings._"

Naricssa turned and looked down at Hermione. "Miss Granger, do you take me for a fool? Of course I _knew_ that!"

Hermione's mouth twisted wryly. "And unlike you…_ they have manners and a conscience!_"

"Miss Granger!"

"Excuse me!" snapped Hermione, the left side of her face twitched uncontrollably. Draco could hear her scream inwardly. "Thank you for inviting-" Hermione dashed out of the room before she finished her sentence. Draco closed his eyes and muttered an apology in his head.

"What a rude girl!" said Narcissa, her hand covering her mouth. Her voice trembled a little as though she had braved through the worst offence. "Are all mudgles like that?"

_It's a funny thing,_ thought Draco. _I ought to agree with Mother._ And yet, even in account for his mother's indoctrinated view and ignorance towards the muggle-born, her comments attacked his conscience. "Mother," he paused, knowing what he was about to say next may cause extreme consequences.

_Was it worth it?_

He stared down at his plate—an untouched chocolate cake. "I'm sure even if Granger is a _mug_gle, she's accomplished enough to describe how a cake might taste like. After all, she's not deemed the Brightest Witch of Our Age for kicks and giggles!"

It was the first time in a long while since he raised his voice at his mother and frankly from the look of shock on her face, she was more than surprised.

"Draco!"

"Thank you, Mother, Astoria. I had an eye-opening experience today," said Draco as he pushed away his plate to the centre of the table and excused himself.

As he exited the visiting room he looked left and right, searching for Hermione. _She couldn't have gotten far,_ he thought. He turned another corner, he met a wooden door. Nothing seemed suspicious about it. Just what one expected from a door, really. Adrenaline rushed through Draco's body, his heart thumped loudly. He opened the door cautiously and could hear sobbing above him. Draco tensed, looking up. His heart beat faster and faster as he saw Hermione's crying face in his mind. Draco sensed—knew that if he went up the stairs and approached Hermione, he would forever marry his unutterable feelings and changing thoughts.

So Draco hesitated. Taking a deep breath, he stepped over the threshold and his cognizance was complete—

and changed nevermore.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Warning: Characters are nasty in this chapter. And not the "oh, you so _nasty_" kind of nasty either. There will be a longer note at the bottom explaining a few of the characters' mindsets in chapter seven below. If you have questions for any of the chapters, feel free to review and I'll PM you or reply in the next chapter.

**Lduena: **_"Did Crookshanks survive the fire? He was such a darling in that chapter." _- Yes, Crookshanks definitely survived the fire. His coveted prowess will be paid more attention to in the future chapters. I'm glad you like Crookshanks because he's probably my favourite character in the story. :D

Draco Malfoy and His Quest to Sensibility

by cleury

* * *

Chapter VIII

* * *

"Granger."

Hermione refused to look in Draco's direction. He took a few steps closer, and he raised an eyebrow at Hermione wiping her tears with her sleeve.

"You're not supposed to be up here," said Hermione snottily. Draco grimaced at how nasal she sounded. He didn't dare look at her face, fearing a plethora of snot and tears. He took a seat beside Hermione but said nothing. _Now what?_ Draco drew circles on the ground with his finger. Though he knew how to console girls to a certain extent, he was quite out of practice. Plus, Hermione was a wild card, he wasn't even sure if she wanted to be consoled. If he did anything, it might seem as though he was rubbing it in her face. To Draco, Hermione was like a young volcano, any wrong move might accidentally trigger her to erupt.

"Sod off, Malfoy. I'm in no mood for you right now," said Hermione before proceeding to take an enormous sniff.

"Are you crying?" asked Draco. He instantly regretted saying that as Hermione snapped back at him.

"No! I'm just having an intense allergic reaction to stupidity!"

What happened back there…"

"What?" said Hermione, flinging her arms in the air. "You mean, you weren't enjoying your mother pointing out how inferior _mudgles_ are?"

"No," said Draco. He rubbed his face, grimacing. He suddenly wished he had a time-turner. Turn back time so he visited his mother the first time she came knocking so that he and Hermione wouldn't be in this awful and _awkward_ situation.

Hermione snorted. "Sorry I didn't know floral-print was in fashion, but I think I navigated around that landmine quite nicely."

"I don't think Mother was trying to trip you up on purpose, she was just trying to…"

"Trip me up on purpose," finished Hermione, she raised her hand to massage her jaw. "If she hated people like me so much, why did she even bother inviting me?"

He knew how his mother thought. She still hated the muggle-born but had been forced to be more _politically correct _to keep her place in society. "She wanted to show that she no longer held her views on blood-purism."

Hermione scowled. "Yeah, like that suggested it."

"To the tabloids it will. All they would know is that she invited you to tea," said Draco. That was how Narcissa convinced the world they had dropped their views and that the Malfoy family was in line with mainstream societal views. Draco had cared little for what she was doing and made sure he never attended the gatherings but knew she didn't play _nice _in her tea-parties.

"So she's using me as a publicity stunt?"

Draco heard Hermione hold her breath, letting it out slowly, trying to calm herself.

"That's my mother for you."

"If I hear mudgle one more time…"

There was a silence and Draco wrung his hands, uncomfortable with his feelings. He wished it was like before, when he didn't feel much. Those were the good ol' days. _Emotions are overrated. _"Is that what's bothering you?"asked Draco. "That my mother treated you impolitely?"

Hermione sniffed and stared at Draco strangely. "No one wants to be treated badly," she said, wiping her nose with her sleeve. She looked away, biting her lip.

From that, Draco sensed that wasn't all there was to the story."Nothing else?"

Hermione crossed her arms and shook her head. As frustrating as it was for Hermione to answer questions all the time, not answering them unnerved him to a considerable degree.

"Throw a bone to the oh-so-ignorant male species here."

Hermione shook her head, a few tears leaking from her eyes. "Whatever, Malfoy. Leave me alone, I've had enough of you for today. Just leave me _alone_."

In the end, Draco could do nothing in fear of upsetting her further and could only sit and watch as Hermione continued to wipe tears leaking from her eyes. Draco stared at Hermione who was still trying to stop crying.

"I'm not trying to make a deal out of it," she said.

Draco didn't reply. Instead, he continued staring at her.

"I'm not!" she insisted. Her hands started shaking and her eyes darted left and right. He frowned, noting how rigid her posture became. "I'm fine," Hermione yelled again, tugging her hair up of the up-do. She turned away from Draco, trying to obstruct his view with her curtain of hair. "So stop _looking_ at me!"

Draco frowned. It was too late, he had already seen it. He saw Hermione's face distorted. Her left cheek tugged up and down as though as if someone was pulling invisible strings fastened to the muscles. Her jaw twitched and locked together in a wild and painful caricature of a grin. Hermione's face convulsed and her sweat dampened her hairline as she fought for control over her body. Hermione curled up in a ball, shaking as she tried to resist the tremors. Draco forgot the years of hate in the sheer shock of one moment. Realization began to dawn onto him. "You're…"

She definitely was _not_ taking a break. Draco had not given a second thought to Hermione's constant presence in the institute, he presumed volunteering at a place like this was a very Hermione-esque thing to do. And since she had explained to him she was volunteering, Draco had accepted it without a second doubt. _That's what they mean by confirmation bias… I only saw the things that strengthened my guess and ignored all the other evidence…_

_._

"_Hermione Granger, the Golden Princess, lied?" yelled Draco. "In front of all those witnesses? I'm aghast."_

"_I'm quite adept at lying. Nobody notices because they all presume I'm some sort of goody-two-shoes. Which of course, I am most of the time." Hermione smiled cheekily at him. _

_._

He felt helpless, unable to move an inch, he was used to consoling the fairer sex over trivial things, like a spoilt frock or lost earring. Hermione hunched her shoulders and shook quietly. _She is definitely not fine._ He knew the glibs his mother threw at her stung, but the Hermione he had known was stronger than that. She was supposed to be stronger than that.

"I am," confirmed Hermione, not looking in his direction, pain wrenching the muscles of her face.

"Why…" Draco's question faltered at his lips, dread curling up in his stomach.

"When Bellatrix…"

"No!" shouted Draco, he scrunched his eyes, trying to erase the memory of his aunt's sadistic laughter and Hermione's screams, memories that had been blanketed and blurred by the silence came back to him like the rush of an incoming tide.

"The curse, I—" stuttered Hermione. "—afterwards, it's hard for me to control my emotions."

Draco felt sick to his stomach. He had seen the immediate effects of the curse, but he had never thought about the long lasting effects. _Longbottom's parents, what happened to them?_ "Is there anything—" Draco stopped short, unable to carry through what he would say. What could he possibly do?

"I'm not usually like this," said Hermione, she screwed up her eyes in a vain attempt to stop the tears from escaping. "But you were saying those things to me and then there was the fire and then your mother, she…"

Draco swallowed, regret rushing into his system. He wasn't prepared for this. _She was supposed to be Hermione Granger, perfect in everything! _

"And Astoria, too. Females can be bitches sometimes, you know," said Hermione, giving a hollow laugh. Her shoulders shook up and down, she no longer tried to hide and several muscles on her face jerked violently, as though they had a life of its own. "They can tell exactly where your insecurities are and attack mercilessly."

"Granger, I…" whispered Draco, willing her to stop.

"I've known I'm not much to look at, and being pretty isn't my main priority. I _saw_ to it. I chose to devote all my time into studying instead of learning how to apply make-up. But that doesn't mean I want to be told how unattractive I am. Is it really too much to ask?"

Insults he had hurled at her came floating out of his recollection to haunt him and the surge of guilt he experienced earlier on became a tidal wave, overwhelming him. "I…"

"Don't be!" said Hermione sharply, cutting Draco's apology off. She didn't want to hear it, she was sick of people apologizing and then walking away without taking responsibility. She gasped suddenly and pinched her cheek as though she was trying to pull her face off. "I _knew_, I know I'm not attractive. Don't you think I know that?"

Draco flinched.

"I'm not as charitable as people think," Hermione said as she looked at Draco dead in his eyes. "Not after how I turned out..."

Her words swam through Draco's head. Draco was drowning and he felt like he was suffocating. "You want me to be in pain for the rest of my life?"

"Ron, he—"exclaimed Hermione, she made no attempt to stop her tears and allowed them to run down her cheeks freely. "—tried so hard. And I could tell, I could tell he was falling out of love because I was too much trouble and I…" she gasped for breath and sobbed, her eyes twisted in pain.

"Can it, Granger!" he said, half-hoping it would scare her didn't want to hear about the truth. It was like when people asked "how's your day?" They didn't want to know about the bad things or the truth. They wanted a 'very well, thank you", and be off again. Draco was scared. He was terrified of the manifestation of the bad deeds his kind had inflicted upon the girl. Hermione, who deserved it the least. He looked away, he couldn't stand the sight of Hermione's twitching face.

Hermione stood up as well, blocking Draco's path. "No, you have to listen."

But Draco paid no attention to Hermione. "How could you be so selfish?"

"Me, _selfish_?" she gaped, her eyes incredulous.

Draco lashed out, his attempts of keeping calm forgotten. "You can't keep me in pain just because you are!" Draco spat, glaring at Hermione. _This is all her fault!_ "Why can't you just forget about what I've done? Let it go!"That's hardly fair!" glowered Draco, he was blind. Blind to Hermione's grief, her needs and her pain. He scowled and pushed himself up, intending to leave and never talk to Hermione again. It felt as though everything was falling apart. Rage bubbled within him and he felt like smashing something. He had even tried to apologize and say he was sorry. _And look where that's gotten me!_

"Because it's not that easy!" said Hermione hotly, she curled her hands into tight fists. "And you can't just erase your past!"

"Look who's the one stuck to their prejudice!" accused Draco.

"You haven't changed at all."

"What, so I'm supposed to grovel? Would that satisfy you?" barked Draco, irritated.

"No! But I can't ignored what's been done to me," exclaimed Hermione. "You can't wipe something away just because you don't like it."

"Of course you can't. Not, _for you,_" sneered Draco. "You just want to lord and hold something over me for the rest of my life, for a mistake I made when I was _sixteen!_"

"That's not the reason," said Hermione jumping up and down, unable to contain her frustration. She approached Draco her finger jabbing at his chest with each word. "And what have you done differently since then?"

Draco forcefully he yanked his shirt sleeve up, revealing his Dark Mark. "We fought a war about it, remember? I was on the different side and my entire life has changed because of that."

"_Nothing's_ changed for you!"

"_Everything's_ changed for me!" objected Draco. "We had to abandon our way of thinking, our way of life."

"But _you_ haven't changed. Your mother's way of thinking and your way of live haven't changed one bit! I don't think you've even matured a bit since our days in Hogwarts. What have you done to prove that you've changed since then?" said Hermione. She was suddenly quiet and composed, just like the eye of a storm.

"What have I done since then?" spat Draco, he didn't like the judgmental look Hermione was giving him. How dare she patronize him? As if he needed to prove anything to her. "I-I've…"started Draco, afraid his silence might lead Hermione to think she was right. He couldn't complete his sentence.

"You still say 'muggles' like it's a bad word. I can still hear mudblood when you say that. So that's all you've done for the last four years? Switching your choice of wording?"

"What?"

Hermione looked at Draco, her voice shaking. "You've done absolutely nothing to prove that you've changed. Action speaks louder than words. What have you done since you've become the head of house?"

Draco glowered at Hermione and crossed his arms across his chest, his stance defensive. "That's hardly any of your concern. You have no right to tell me what I am and what to do."

"The last time I came near the familial House of Malfoy, I was _tortured_ for being a muggle, and _ended up like this_!" Hermine screamed. She waved her hands hysterically in the air and hissed in frustration. "Is that enough reason for you to prove that you've done something, anything to change? I have the right to _ask _what you are and _I'm_ saying this only because it looks like you haven't given it a bloody thought!"

"What the hell do you know about me?"

Hermione snorted. "I know for a fact, that you've spent your whole life being told what to do."

Draco shot a glare at Hermione that would've split a stone but he couldn't deny her words. "So what?"

"You're a coward. You might always think _about_ yourself, you've never thought _for _yourself. Or anyone else for that matter," said Hermione. "And now that no one can tell you what to do, you're scared out of your wits."

Draco stepped back from the force of Hermione's words. "I'm not scared."

"Yes you are!" said Hermione, taking a step forward. "No one's telling you what to stand for any more, so you're lost and losing your mind over it. So like a coward, instead of confronting your fears, you tried to run away."

Draco took a few more steps backwards. "No, that's not right!" But her words resounded through his head. _Who am I? What sort of legacy will I leave behind for the Malfoy name?_ And without his father telling who he was and what to do, what was he?

"So," said Hermione, placing her hands on her hips indignantly. She had cornered Draco. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

Draco opened his mouth, preparing to speak but the words ran dry in his mouth and there was nothing. His eyes narrowed as he closed his mouth.

"Thought so," said Hermione with quiet triumph. "And you want _me_ to _forget?_"

It was too much for Draco to bear, he shoved past Hermione hard. He didn't look back as she fell on the ground. She didn't get back up again. Draco bolted down the stairs, escaping into the building. He heard Hermione break out in retched sobs and could imagine her face convulsing, no longer her own. He sped down the halls, ignoring the yells from several staff and sought refuge in the men's room, locking himself in a cubicle.

"Stupid girl, why couldn't she just do as I asked!" he grunted, kicking the side of the door with his foot. Everything would have worked perfectly then.

"Knock it off!" a male yelled outside the cubicle.

"Go away!" snarled Draco. The core of his body shook and Draco fought to suppress the shudders running through his body. "I know who I am." But he was rapidly losing faith. It was true, after his father was sentenced to Azkaban, he spent his days drifting. _What does the Malfoy name mean?_ All he knew was that he didn't want the Malfoy family to be like the way his father had run it. Then came the horrible epiphany, Hermione was struck bulls-eye. He had done little to set his family name as anything. _Hell, I hadn't even properly thought about my stance on muggles until today!_

"I need the toilet!" came a loud voice.

Draco punched the door in anger. "Find another one!" he shouted back. He felt sick. This was getting all too much for him. He already thought he had taken a big step in admitting his feelings were back, but the revelation in regards to Hermione overwhelmed him. His throat clenched and he found it hard to breathe. A wave of nausea hit him. "It's not fair," he said softly. Hermione was supposed to be unharmed, off doing great things for the good of society and taking care of Weasley spawn. His aunt's curse shouldn't have affected her daily life, she_ had_ to be _fine._

But Draco had witnessed firsthand, the brutality and sadism of Bellatrix and found it hard to believe it hadn't occurred to him before. "It's not my fault!" he yelled, slamming his fist. He hadn't tried to stop his aunt, but he didn't encourage her either. Surely, that had to mean something! It was only then did Draco realize the full impact of his past beliefs. Doing nothing was just as bad as doing something. There was a face, a person at the end of all the bad things he had done. And he had just witnessed the consequences, the effects of his abominable deeds. Bile rose up to his throat, he leaned over the toilet, gagging. He watched as yellow liquid sloshed from his mouth and coughed at the bitter taste. He wished he had eaten something during his mother's visit, it hurt to throw up on an empty stomach. He tried a few times more, in an effort to purge the overwhelming tirade of emotions before he finally gave up, slumping on the side of the cubicle.

Gasping for breath, he pulled his knees to his chest and placed his chin on top of them. "What the hell have I been doing with my life?"

* * *

**Author Note:** This is a slight rewrite of what I wrote in reply to a reviewer and her reply (hope you don't mind!), which might benefit your understanding of the story.

**Draco and Hermione** don't have what I call "wink-wink-nudge-nudge" feelings for each other. I think I made quite clear in this chapter, they _don't_ (yet.) Hehe. It's just that Draco's been having what you might call feelings of non-hate, or civility towards Hermione. Even though what he does is sort of contrary to what he says, he's more in denial that he has these non-hateful feelings to Hermione than actually liking her in _that_ way. But before they have any romantic inclinations with each other, they need to sort themselves out first.

As for **Narcissa**, she's being mean to Hermione on purpose. She's not getting the term 'muggle' wrong, but choosing to pronounce it in a bad way ie. Mudblood and Muggle. She's doing this because she's subtly rebelling against society who's forcing her to use the more PC term. I think she has a case of not-so-causal racism. And no, she's not dragged into the belief by Lucius, she's brought up that way and her beliefs manifest her actions. Look at how Bellatrix turned out. Even Andromeda acted out on her beliefs on blood-purism. For racism that I've seen and studied (which I think would be similar to blood-purism), people force specific ideas (stereotypes) onto a group of people and then ignore anything that points otherwise. Even if the stereotypes aren't true, just making people angry with their presumptions gives them kicks.

I tried making Hermione and Draco's argument as coherent as possible. At one point, they're kind of arguing about different things, that's when it gets a bit confusing, but that was an intended effect. Hopefully you guys understood what happened?

See you in chapter nine. Reviews are Tom Felton's smile.


	9. Chapter 9

Draco Malfoy and His Quest to Sensibility  
by cleury

* * *

Chapter IX

* * *

"Let's talk about what happened."

Draco scowled at the toilet door. He had been caged in there for hours. It had been a few days after the debacle with his mother, Astoria and Hermione. After Draco stormed off the roof, Hermione and Draco avoided each other as though they were like ends of a magnet. Okay, more like Draco deliberately ran away when he so much saw her shadow at the opposite end of a room. The pesky woman had an uncanny ability to appear before him. So he had sought refuge in the men's bathroom—it rapidly became his usual place to hang out.

Then Luna had to ruin his peace and quiet with incessant questions; all to which he gave monosyllabic replies or grunts to. Two days passed since Luna started questioning him and she still hadn't given up.

"Don't you have other people to attend to, Lovegood?"

"I don't."

Draco was a man of lacking patience and short temperament. He was at his wit's end. But his pride refused to let him yield.

"Draco, you have to come out. You've been in there for days."

"I have not," said Draco finally. On the first day he refused to reply to anything. But he saw that silence only made Luna babble constantly, so he switched to grunting. That seemed to be ineffective in deterring Luna too. Maybe he could scare her off with his wit and nastiness. "I'm not _always_ in here."

"Only when you're asleep or eating," said Luna. She worried about her patient. She thought he had been making some progress, but after his mother's visit and his fight with Hermione, he was back at square one.

"You seem to have no qualms in entering the men's room either," Draco commented snidely.

"Either? I didn't know people hung out in toilets," said Luna politely. She was determined not to get annoyed at Draco's comments and comforted herself that at least Draco was talking again. "I wouldn't recommend this past-time to anyone. It's not very comfortable."

Draco rolled his eyes, he could never tell whether Luna was being sincere or sarcastic. _Unlike Granger, the Queen of Sarcasm._

Draco bit back his scream when he thought back to his encounter with Hermione, guilt pounded in his chest and questions he didn't want to answer whirled and the incessant questions she asked replayed in his head like a broken record. Seeing her face would only made it worse.

"So who is this other person?" asked Luna. "It couldn't be Hermione, could it?"

"Give that girl a cigar!" snorted Draco.

"Would you like to tell me what happened up on the rooftop the afternoon your mother came for tea?"

Draco kneaded his eyes with his palms, hoping Luna would disappear or spontaneously combust into flames. Both if possible. "There's nothing to say," said Draco, he did not feel like cooperating. _How did they know about us being up there anyway?_

"It didn't sound like nothing to me," said Luna.

"You heard our conversation?"

"No, I knew there was a conversation and that it was a pivotal one. Hermione didn't want to talk about it, so I didn't force it out of her."

Draco's head shot up. "You're in charge of her too?"

"No, Hermione is not my patient."

"Can't you extend me the same courtesy?" whined Draco.

"But that would imply we were friends," said Luna. "And we aren't friends. We're not, right?"

"We're not," grunted Draco, disgusted even at the prospect of it.

"Good," said Luna, breathing a sigh of relief. "For a second there, I thought you misunderstood."

Draco scowled. "As long as we're clear."

"As the person in charge of you, I formally request you to come out of the cubicle so we can have a talk face to face," said Luna. "It's hard to tell what you actually mean without being able to read your body and facial expression."

"No," said Draco, stubborn as an ox.

"If it makes you feel more comfortable, I could get into the cubicle with you," offered Luna.

"Merlin, _no!_" Draco exclaimed, he made a sour face at the prospect of getting in a small cramped space with Luna. He stood up, wondering if he could push her away and run for it. But the question: run to where?

"If you feel that uncooperative, I'm going to have to do something you wouldn't like," cautioned Luna.

Draco growled, he didn't take threats well. "And what's that, _Looney?_"

"I'll be forced to bring Hermione in here."

Draco's face went red with rage and he ripped the door open to face Luna. "Don't you dare!"

Luna gave a bright smile. Draco had finally come out of the cubicle on his own. Luna ignored his comment and led him out by his arm. Now that he stepped out of the stall, she wasn't about to let him lock himself back in. "You've decided to open the door and come out, that's an important first step. Did you realise you're allowed back in the main quarters now? The firemen gave it an all clear the day before. Though there was a lot of smoke, the fire caused very little damage to the building."

Draco grunted, not interested in the specifics. "Do not bring Granger here, or I'll…"

"As long as you cooperate. Now, how about having our session in my office where there are actual chairs?"

* * *

Luna made herself comfortable in her leather chair. Draco took a seat, the one most distant from her. How in the world had Luna become a therapist? Draco bit his tongue.

"I know you hate wasting time and would like nothing better than to go back to where you were before," started Luna. "So let's cut to the chase. Why have you been avoiding Hermione?"

Draco made a face. "Why is it always about Hermione? Last time I checked, _I'm_ the one being treated here."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "Because you seem to only react when it's about her."

"That's not true," Draco said, not liking where this was going. "Aren't you supposed to be helping _me_ with _my_ problems instead?"

"I think your problem has a lot to do with the argument with Hermione. Tell me about it," said Luna, "I might be able to help."

"We started arguing because..." Draco sighed. In truth, what Hermione said confused him and even in the two days of near-solitude, he hadn't been able to figure it out himself. "It started off about being my mother. Then I... found out about the after-effects of the curse."

"And so?"

"When I found out, I was so shocked. And guilty." said Draco, taking a deep breath. "Because..." Draco trailed off, hesitant to confide in Luna.

"You can do it," Luna encouraged softly.

"I don't know if you know, but when Bellatrix was there _with_ Hermione... I was there too," said Draco, gripping the side of the couch. "And I didn't stop Bellatrix."

"So you think it's your fault that Hermione ended up like this?"

"At least indirectly. But it's definitely because of my beliefs that she's like this now... I felt guilty and I tried to apologise," said Draco, biting his lip. "I tried to apologise but she wouldn't even let me say 'sorry'. She just cut me off!"

"And that makes you feel...?"

Draco swallowed, just thinking back to the situation made his blood boil. "Pissed. I mean, does she even know how hard it is for me, Draco Malfoy to apologise?" Draco said as he slapped the arm of the couch in frustration. "And she shot me down just like that!"

"Draco, do you understand the concept of an apology?"

"Of course I do!" said Draco, scowling. "I say 'sorry' and then Hermione has to say 'I forgive you' and then-"

"Why does Hermione_ have_ to say she forgives you?" asked Luna. Apparently Draco never apologised to anyone properly to understand that forgiveness wasn't given automatically just because he said 'sorry'.

"That's because... I made the effort to apologise!"

"So she's supposed to be_ thankful_ that you admitted you're wrong and forgive you just because it was _hard_ for _you _to say sorry? Didn't you consider her feelings in this at all?"

Draco looked down and was silent for a long moment, trying to make Luna see his side of the argument. He felt like he was losing and the woman made an awful lot of sense. "It's her fault. She knows that as long as she doesn't forgive me, I'll feel guilty. She's a hypocrite. She condemns me for intentionally making her feel horrible about herself when she's doing the same thing to me!"

"So in the end you're saying sorry not because you regret the things you've done to her but to get rid of the guilty feelings."

Draco's head shot up and he frowned. Was that the reason why he apologised? "So what if it is?"

Luna sighed. This was going to be hard to explain. She wondered if this was what happened to children who _always_ got their way. "Hermione may be forgiving, but she's not nice enough to forgive you just to make you feel better. Well, for simpler things she might. But this is about all the times you had been mean to her. Plus..." she trailed off.

"Plus?"

"The effects of the curse put her in a very bad shape," sighed Luna. "I'm supposed to keep Hermione's matters confidential..."

"Just spit it out, Lovegood."

"Did you know Hermione loved Ron since Third Year?"

Draco snorted. He didn't see how this was relevant. "Yes, of course. You'd have to be blind with a mask on to not be able to see that. Or I guess being as stupid as the Weasel would suffice."

"Ron finally responded to her feelings during the War. But because of the after-effects of the curse... things became awkward and strained between them."

_"I could tell he was falling out of love because I was too much trouble..."_

Draco swallowed. "So you're telling me Ron and Hermione broke up as a result of the curse. And that I indirectly made her lose the person she loved."

Luna paused, she knew it wasn't right to have a patient blame himself... but perhaps that was precisely what Draco needed. "Do you see why she has trouble forgiving you now? Your apology wasn't exactly sincere, and she lost something important to her as well as the actual effects of the curse affecting her life. Can you imagine it?"

Draco scowled. Empathy was not his forte and he didn't want to put himself in someone else's shoes. "Imagine what?"

"If someone dismissed your situation and feelings like that. What if I wronged you so badly you had to live with the consequences everyday? What if I would forget what I did with one simple 'sorry', would you let me say it?"

"No," admitted Draco sourly. Hermione had called it being 'charitable', but if he had been put in that situation and had forgiven someone... the correct adjective would be 'god-like'. No mortal could possibly be so forgiving. It was impossible. That sort of thing only happened in stories. Now that Luna laid the scene out like that for him... even he could see he was being a complete jerk. And having looked at the reflection of a metaphorical mirror, Draco didn't like what he saw.

"I don't like who I am," Draco blurted in a moment of self-actualisation.

"What do you mean by that?"

Draco sighed and rubbed his face, trying to put his thoughts in words, what could he say? "I mean, I'm Draco Malfoy obviously. There's no argument about that. But… I have no idea what that means any more and I'm not sure I want it to mean the same thing as it used to. All my life, I've been taught and told what to do and believe. With no threat from Voldemort or my inheritance being taken away from me, I'm free to do and believe whatever I want."

"And did that scare you?"

"No it didn't," Draco grimaced, he hadn't thought about how he felt in a very long time. "I didn't think much about it," said Draco truthfully. His life after the war consisted of planning and easily fulfilled short-term goals. He didn't bother thinking about anything else.

"No?"

"Yes," said Draco. He could grasp the root of his problem. He was wrong in saying that he had ran out of emotions. It wasn't that he didn't _feel_ them as much as he couldn't understand them. Nor did he take time to try comprehend his emotions. Because he couldn't understand his emotions, it seemed like nothing mattered and he didn't care about anything. All that he was left with was a big fat, "SO WHAT" because he hadn't bothered analysing himself. It was ironic for Draco, who manipulated people well because he could analyse_ their_ feelings. "I hadn't thought about this before."

"Until you met Hermione again. She makes you _feel_."

"She makes me _think._"

"I think we made good progress today," said Luna. "I'll catch up with you on another time."

* * *

Draco left Luna's office and began wandering around the complex, keeping a sharp eye out for Hermione. Even after knowing that he had been the one more wrong in their argument, he didn't feel like admitting that to her. He strove to avoid her. But Draco didn't want to go back to the toilet—the tiles were frightfully cold, and he felt sick of hiding in the bathroom all the time.

"_Yweoh!_"

An orange blur wedged itself between Draco's legs as he fell heavily onto the ground. _It's Granger's cat_. He sniffed snobbishly. "Are you avenging your mistress?" asked Draco, somehow he knew the cat could understand him and was not surprised when it shook its head at him.

"What?"

Crookshanks stretched lazily in front of him, vying for attention. Draco smirked and he watched amusedly as Crookshanks led the way to his room, its brushy tail up high like a beacon. "Well, good thing you know I'm not going to be affectionate in public. I have a reputation to uphold, you know," he said to the cat as they entered through his bedroom door.

"And for a moment, I thought it was Astoria."

Draco's smile slid from his face when he recognized the voice. He scowled. Pansy lounged on his bed, she had kicked off her shoes and messed up his neatly-made bed. "Unless Astoria is an Animagus? Didn't think she had enough brain capacity for it though." said Pansy as she yawned, fanning her hair all over Draco's pillow.

Crookshanks hissed and looked up. Draco laughed. "The cat's telling me to get rid of you."

"Oh?" said Pansy, her feet waving in the air. "There are two reasons to why you would think that. One, you've become a cat whisperer while you've been away. Two, you've gone crazy."

"You're missing the third one; that you're a bitch and even a cat knows it. What are you even doing here, Pansy?" asked Draco, shutting the door behind them. "Visiting hours are over."

Pansy turned her head and raised an eyebrow at Draco. "Since when did those rules apply to me? I'm Pansy Parkinson, you know."

"Far too well for my liking," Draco said, he pushed her feet away and sat on the side of the bed. "But really, what are you doing here?"

"Well a little birdie told me," started Pansy, her eyes wide and innocent. She smirked playfully as she watched the range of emotions—confusion, recognition and annoyance— run through Draco's face. It had been a while since she'd seen anything but a stoic mask from him even though she had been in the select few he kept close contact with after the war.

"Yes?" bit Draco. "Come on, I don't have all night."

"…that you proposed to Astoria!" said Pansy, sitting up. "How could you do that to me?"

Draco rolled his eyes. _Fuck Astoria._ If he ever got her hands around her neck… he was heading to Azkaban for sure. "Do what?" he asked.

"Don't be a prat," said Pansy, swatting Draco lightly on the shoulder. "How could you propose to her without telling me you were considering her?"

Draco gave Pansy a look. "Since when did I have to ask for your permission?"

"Since I was your last fiancée!" exclaimed Pansy. "Duh! The next girl you choose next will make or break my reputation."

Draco gave a short laugh. "If you cared about your reputation, you would be at home knitting. Don't fool me."

Pansy huffed and played with her hair. Draco watched as she did so, and could recall faintly, how mesmerized he used to be when she did that. "Okay, maybe that's not the reason. But you should have said something to me! I'm like what, your only girl friend?"

Draco couldn't deny the truth of the fact. "Apparently I have one girl friend too many."

Pansy stuck her tongue out. "You always say that, and yet here we are," she said. Then she became serious and straightened her posture. "So? Why?"

"Love at first sight?" Draco said, scowling.

"Ha, ha!" Pansy hooted, her feet kicking the air. Her expression became tight and serious and kept her voice low. "No, really Draco."

Draco sighed, rubbing his face. He seemed to be surrounded by woman constantly interrogating him. _How did I end up like this? _

"Oh,_ Dracoooooooo_," nagged Pansy, sidling up to him.

Draco shot her a glare and she smirked, knowing she had won.

"You've always had a soft spot for me."

Draco ran his fingers through his hair. "One day, I'll get over it."

Pansy giggled. "But not today, so spill!"

Draco breathed out heavily. "There was a fire, and she wouldn't get out because she was afraid if she ended up in the papers, she'd never get married."

"As if she could ever be important enough to be on page six of Witch Weekly! But you've got to give me more, Draco, I can't see you proposing to someone just to get them out," said Pansy, laughing. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before she continued. "Even though you're the most self-preserving git I know."

_Where have I heard that from?_

"It's true. I said I could be her back-up plan," said Draco, trying to work around the situation. But Pansy knew she had pounced onto something and refused to give up.

"I promise I won't tell," she said, holding her hand against her heart. "Which is more than what I can say about your fiancée."

Draco shot her a glare. "She's not my fiancée. Why bother me if you know all the answers?"

Pansy smiled sweetly, as though she was an innocent heroine in a teenage film. "Because it's so much more fun. And I like watching you stumble over your words."

Draco grunted, rapidly losing his energy. He regretted inviting Crookshanks to his room, they should have gone outside. In the sun, he could have worked on his tan or something. All he wanted was to spend the whole afternoon in bed, cuddling and playing with the cat. Was that too much for him to ask?

"I heard she was your first love," said Pansy. Draco sat up and pretended to be surprised she knew. Maybe if she could be deluded to believe that was the reason why he had proposed, she would walk away and leave him in peace.

"You know that too, huh." said Draco, adding a tremor to his voice as though he felt sensitive about the subject.

Pansy raised an eyebrow and sighed. "You're _so_ out of practice. Even a first-year can beat you at lying in this state," Pansy said as she crossed her arms. "Frankly, I'm disappointed. Where is the Slytherin King?"

Draco scowled and looked away. People thought Pansy was a ditz and only had half a brain. But that was all part of Pansy's cunning plan. She liked playing the stupid bimbo and took advantage of people when they underestimated her. Even without the ten-generation strong tradition of the Parkinsons being in Slytherin, she would have been sorted in for her cunning.

"So? Why did you do it? You know I won't kiss and tell," said Pansy, leaning in for a juicy piece of gossip.

Draco gave a sidelong glance at Pansy, he could trust her just enough to know she wouldn't tell anyone. And he couldn't lie his way out of this, Pansy knew him far too well. "Because Granger wouldn't fucking leave." he mumbled.

Pansy gave him a smug look. _She knew all along_. He hissed, jumping up from his bed and heading towards the door. "Get out."

"Nope," said Pansy crossing her legs on his bed. "I want to know why." From her grinning expression, Draco knew she already had a few ideas of her own.

Wrong ideas.

"It was an impulse," said Draco, throwing his hands up in the air. He had enough of this conversation. Cats were nice, unlike girls, they didn't talk. Maybe he'd get a cat when he got out of his place. "She wouldn't leave without Astoria and I couldn't possibly leave them alone and exit myself."

"And so you proposed to Astoria for her?" asked Pansy, her hand covering her mouth. "Aw, Drakey, that's so sweet of you! You sure know how to show romantic gestures. If only you were that nice to me, I wouldn't have dumped you and we might be married by now."

"I thank my lucky stars for that!" said Draco, sulking. Pansy dared to bring up that she had dumped him!

Pansy put her shoes back on and smiled. "See? It wasn't that hard to admit something, right? I knew it as soon as Astoria told me a few days ago." She put on a stern face and imitated Draco's low growl when he was angry. "I'm Draco Malfoy, I don't feel anything." She winked and walked up close to Draco. "You lie like a cheap Thai watch."

Draco scowled, annoyed that Pansy had managed to get things so wrong. "Do me a favor?"

"Depends on how what I get in return."

_Our friendship really is such a lovely economical thing,_ mused Draco.

"Rough her up a bit," said Draco, completely annoyed at how Astoria couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Already did," said Pansy. She winked. "Why else do you think I came now? I wanted to tell you that I told Blaise to tell Goyle—"

Draco clamped his hand over Pansy's mouth to stop the endless tirade. "Just go straight to the point." He waited for Pansy to nod before releasing his hand.

"—that Astoria was interested in him. So now…" she smirked looking up at Draco.

"Times like these, I wonder why I didn't marry you," said Draco, liking the sound of 'Astoria Goyle'.

Pansy stopped in front of Draco and looked back behind her shoulder, shooting him a sultry look. "Because I'm _way_ too good for you."

Draco snorted and shook his head. "Dream on, Pansy."

"I still can't get over the fact you proposed _to_ Astoria _for_ Granger," said Pansy, as she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob. "So when will I get my invitation? Do I get to be a bridesmaid for the girl you proposed _for_?"

"We're planning a wedding in January, everybody_ loves_ rain and snow on a wedding day." Draco said sarcastically. Let the girl remain deluded. He shrugged and turning away from the door, heading towards the bed. "Who knows, maybe if you cozy up with Granger, she'll let you be one."

Pansy sniffed. "Knowing her taste, I'd rather be caught dead—"

Draco turned around when Pansy's sentence was cut off and frowned, his view of the front door blocked. He leaned over and saw a wide bush of brown hair.

"Well, _shit,_" said Pansy, slipping past quickly. Hermione obviously heard the last part of their conversation. "Tell me how things go!"

He groaned, annoyed that Pansy would leave him alone in such a situation.

"Hi," said Hermione nervously.


End file.
